


Creation of Yavanna

by Pallalalo



Series: Bilbo Baggins, Warrior of the Valar [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: A type of marijuana being used?, Alfrid doesn't exist AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Blood and Injury, Canon Divergent, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Description, Graphic Violence, Injury, M/M, Magical Bilbo Baggins, Medication, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Minor Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Protective Thorin, Slow Burn, Thorin Is an Idiot, Thorin is a Softie, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Uncle Thorin, background pairings - Freeform, graphic description of violence, several dwarf background relationships, severe canon divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 50,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23446810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pallalalo/pseuds/Pallalalo
Summary: “I never said that this hobbit didn’t have magic!” Bilbo burst out, waving his hands. “I know that’s semantics-” he held up his finger to stop anyone from interrupting him, “but it worked and I didn’t lie. I cannot tell you how this magic works nor why I hold it so please do not ask me any further. I am loyal to this quest and that is enough.”#The Valar sent Bilbo back in time. After living a lifetime of regret and suffering, he vows to change things for the better. For Thorin. For Frodo. But will he succeed?
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies), Legolas Greenleaf/Tauriel (unrequited)
Series: Bilbo Baggins, Warrior of the Valar [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637314
Comments: 184
Kudos: 1206





	1. Of Hobbits and their Sleeping Habits

**Author's Note:**

> Hey here we are!! thank you for all the amazing, lovely comments on my last fanfic! As promised, here is the 2nd part, first chapter!!! 
> 
> i'm currently self isolating with my family but i still have to do coursework as well as write my dissertation so while i do have a lot more free time, I have to use some of it for uni stuff. 
> 
> Apart from that, I hope everyone is staying safe <3 
> 
> ENJOY!!!

~~_But when I wake up, I see  
You with me-_ ~~

There were a lot more questions directed at Bilbo than ever before. This included the several times he had several hobbit babes sat around him, eager to hear tales of dwarves and dragons. This included the times Frodo had asked about his life, eager for anything Bilbo could tell him about his parents. This included the late night questions Elrond had asked him, standing in the moonlight in Rivendell, asking an old Hobbit about the things he’s seen. 

But none had bombarded him with questions as quick or as overwhelming as the dwarves were doing. He couldn’t talk with anyone without being talked over with invasive questions which he tried his best at answering without giving himself away. There was only so much dodging he could do with the question, “Didn’t you say Hobbits _didn’t_ have magic?” 

“I did say Hobbits don’t have any magic.” Bilbo said, rather grumpily as he found himself sitting on a stump of a tree, rubbing his leg. The bandage was tight and Bilbo could only rub to soothe the itchiness, which Oin had reassured him meant that it was healing. It was night now, the summer days losing their warmth. After the eagles had dropped them off on the Carrock, it had taken them most of the night to climb down. No one had been eager to make camp on such a high point where the wind was sharp and cold. 

“But you have magic.” Ori pouted, arms crossed and sat in front of him on the ground. They had camped for the night, after spending a day walking towards the Lonely Mountain, but that only meant more time for questions. Gandalf just sat to the side, smoking quite contently. Thorin was watching him with a sly smile from afar, sitting next to Dwalin and Balin behind the campfire. Bilbo was unsure of his standing with Dwalin and Balin, though he also wasn’t sure about Thorin. There was something there _this_ time, that hadn’t been there last time. Was he imagining the looks Thorin sent him? He must be. 

“I never said that _this_ hobbit **didn’t** have magic!” Bilbo burst out, waving his hands. “I know that’s semantics-” he held up his finger to stop anyone from interrupting him, “but it worked and I didn’t lie. I cannot tell you how this magic works nor why I hold it so please do not ask me any further. I am loyal to this quest and that is enough.” 

Ori leant against Bilbo’s legs with an apologetic look, “Please, Bilbo, I didn’t mean to question your loyalty. I have just never seen such magnificent magic. You were moving with such grace and speed, I couldn’t believe my own eyes.” The young dwarf smiled up the Hobbit, with such earnest eyes that Bilbo huffed again. 

“Yeah, I know.” He said simply, putting his hand on Ori’s and stroking through his hair gently. He noticed the blush on the young dwarf’s cheeks and the gasp from several dwarves. He had neither the strength nor the will to deal with whatever the dwarves were shocked about right now and so he just slid from the stump onto the soft grass next to Ori, taking his hand back. 

Bilbo felt the keen staring from several dwarves, especially their blue-eyed leader but he ignored them, instead sighing and looking down at his own hands. His left hand still ached, a phantom feeling of his fingers still there. He swore he could still feel them though his pinky was long gone and his ring and middle finger were no use. It had been a surprise how easily he had fought against Azog with his left hand so mangled. 

“How does your hand feel, Bilbo?” Ori whispered, leaning his head against his friends. It was nice, like this. The two friends were huddled together now, warming each other as Ori slid his arm around Bilbo. It wasn’t until earlier when Thorin had hugged him that Bilbo realized that he had missed that too. It had been too long since someone had hugged him. Hobbits were sociable creatures, needy and affectionate with their touch. 

On the last journey, Bilbo had to restrict himself so many times from reaching out and touching someone, something which had come so easily in the Shire. No one thought twice about a hug or holding hands. But with the dwarves he knew it meant something more. He knew this, he remembered this, so he should know what his cuddling with Ori would mean to the others. 

However he felt the need for cuddles triumph over his sense of propriety. “It feels weird. I can’t move it properly but I want to. I want to, so badly. But- I can’t.” Bilbo tried to explain. The comfort of Ori’s hug was so welcoming that Bilbo felt at such ease that he had to yawn, becoming more and more sleepy. It had been such a long day, and he was so tired from the constant pain in his leg and his hand. 

Yes, he could sleep like this. “Mhm, I don’t know how to explain it, really. It feels like my pinky is still there. When I grab something, my hand doesn’t work. The ache makes sense, then.” Bilbo mumbled, nuzzling his head into the crook of Ori’s neck. 

Ori’s arm tightened around him, another hand petting his curly hair now. “I think I understand. Try and get some sleep, Bilbo. I’ll protect you.” The young writer mumbled with a soft smile. Bilbo nodded, his eyes heavy. One last glance towards the campfire told him that he had everyones’ eyes on him. He made one last eye contact with Thorin, sending a sleepy smile in his direction and closing his eyes. 

For once, he slept deeply though with no peace. It was dark and he had been running. Shadows, everywhere. A silver light and a slithering voice. It was everywhere all at once and he could not outrun it, his leg causing him to limp horribly. A sense of panic overwhelmed him and he wanted to cry so badly, he wanted to scream for help. 

He woke with a start, and for a second it felt like he couldn’t move. Blinking sleepily, his throat parched and dry, he moved his head and cringed. It was bright, sunlight flooding everywhere and he turned around, burying his head into his cushion. 

He stopped moving, when realization sank in. He had fallen asleep, sitting upright next to Ori. So why was he laying down with a cushion and a blanket? He opened his eyes, sitting up slowly. Over him was a massive fur-cloak. It was blue with silver fur lining it. He ran his hands through the fur, with a soft smile. He knew exactly whose fur cloak this was. 

Someone had taken off his jacket and covered his bag with it, using it as a pillow. This discovery, that someone had _tucked_ him into bed and taken such care to make him comfortable warmed his heart. It made his stomach swirl with butterflies, if he was being honest. 

Bilbo looked around, the campfire had been started anew, a little bigger now with most dwarves hunched around it. No doubt, eating breakfast. He grinned, putting on his coat and over it, Thorin’s fur cloak. He stood up slowly, his body a little slower than he wanted to be but he walked over nonetheless, limping slightly. 

Thorin was sitting with his nephews behind Bofur and Bombur, hunched over three bowls, eating quickly. The leader looked up just as Bilbo stopped in front of him, a slight blush on his cheeks at the sight of the Hobbit draped in his cloak. 

  
“I assume I have you to thank for this wonderful blanket?” Bilbo grinned. The ‘blanket’ was big enough to cover him completely, no spot exposed except for his head. Thorin nodded silently, raking his eyes over him. Kili cleared his throat, nudging his uncle with his elbow. 

“Y-yes. It felt only right to give you my cloak. Rather than sleep with no cloak. It was so cold last night, after all.” Thorin put his bowl down on the floor and hesitantly stood up, stepping around Bilbo to take all of him in. “Was it of any comfort?”

“It was. I hope you weren’t cold for it.” Bilbo nodded, taking the cloak off and putting it around Thorin’s shoulders. He stepped closer, sliding it across the taller dwarf and closing it around his neck. “I fell asleep in a rather uncomfortable position, so thank you for moving me.” He chuckled. 

“You didn’t look so uncomfortable when you fell asleep.” Thorin mumbled, looking down, placing his hands over Bilbo’s on his cloak. If Bilbo didn’t know better, he sounded almost a bit jealous. 

“Hobbits are very touchy creatures, you know. Big families. Everyone’s always hugging and holding hands and cuddling.” Bilbo shrugged, looking up at Thorin with a teasing smile. “Usually, you can find Hobbits sleeping in a big pile, all cuddling. Brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, cousins. Partners. We’re not very stingy with our touch. I know it’s very different with dwarves. I should probably apologize to Ori and his brothers for such indecency!” He shook his head with a low chuckle. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just been so long since I’ve had someone hold me while sleeping.” 

Thorin took in his words, stroking Bilbo’s left hand with his thumb with the slightest of movements. Kili was choking on his soup behind them, coughing violently and Fili aided him, slamming his hands on his brother’s back. 

“I didn’t know that about Hobbits. Are you so free with your touch that it does not concern you?” Thorin asked hesitantly, looking down at their joined hands. 

_Oh_. 

Bilbo blushed brightly, almost pulling his hands back. “Well, it certainly depends. We are free with our affections, that is true. But I never- I’ve always been an outlier when it came to uh- that.” He huffed, flustered. Thorin smiled down at him and lowered his hands, leaning forward. 

“Good to know, Bilbo. Us dwarves are not so free with our touch.” 

“Should I be honoured then? That you touch me so and give me your cloak?” Bilbo said before he could stop himself. There was something there between them, something undeniable that hadn’t even been there last time. It was hard to think clearly with Thorin’s eyes on him. 

“Perhaps. My nephews will often sleep in a pile. More often than not, they like to pile on me.” Thorin looked at his nephews with a wide grin then back at Bilbo. “If you find yourself in need of a _pile_ to sleep in, you’re more than welcome in joining the Durin’s pile.” 

Ignoring the snickering behind him, Bilbo knew he was as red as a tomato. Did Thorin know how his words sounded? What they implied? Would he have been so free with such words last time? Bilbo ignored these thoughts as they were racing through him and blushed even more once he realized that he still had his hands on Thorin’s chest. He recoiled quickly, sliding them into his pocket, rubbing his fingertips against the ring in his right pocket. 

“Uh- thank you, I- I’ll keep that in mind, then.” Bilbo said quickly, “I should get some breakfast from Bombur before we head off, eh?” Bilbo turned around, leaving quickly towards the campfire and to Bombur. With one last look over his shoulder, he found Thorin’s gaze following him. He turned around quickly, still blushing. 

#

“I really didn’t mean to fall asleep on you, Ori.” Bilbo chuckled awkwardly as Ori waved his hands at the Hobbit. 

“I told you not to worry about it. It wasn’t any different from me falling asleep on Dori’s shoulder or otherwise. In fact I’m honoured you see me as such a close friend!” Ori grinned brightly. The company was on their way from the forest, aiming to be out of the woods by nightfall. They had just set out when Bilbo had nabbed Ori by the elbow, walking towards the back. It must be another night or so before they were in Beorn’s territory. 

Bilbo nodded, happy with that answer. “Likewise to you, my friend.” He had found himself a walking stick somewhere along the way. A sturdy branch that was almost the size of himself. He would have to whittle it down properly later but for now it certainly helped. 

“Besides, I think it all worked out in your favour, after all.” Ori looked at Bilbo out of the corner of his eyes, a slight smile on his lips. The last time, there had not been much time for such jokes. Not much time for an affectionate Ori to tease him. It warmed Bilbo’s heart, maybe this was the way things were supposed to be. Even if they weren’t supposed to be like this forever. 

“I am not sure I know what you’re implying.” Bilbo decided to play coy, looking ahead towards Thorin and Gandalf rather than look at Ori. 

“I’m not implying anything.” Ori shrugged, giving out a soft chuckle, “Just that Thorin seemed rather agitated last night but he’s rather cheerful this morning. Did you notice?” 

Bilbo tried not to smile at that. He did anyway. “I did notice. Wondrous, isn’t it, how he can change his mood so?”

“Mhm, yes, wondrous, indeed.” Ori laughed, slapping Bilbo’s shoulder amicably. 

For once, this journey felt less like a march to their doom and more like a hopeful quest. Thorin was in a good mood for the rest of the day, listening to Gandalf’s advice and even joking around with Dwalin in front of the others. This had a knock on effect on the rest of the dwarves which were joyous and rambunctious, playfully boasting and laughing by the time they camped for the night. Even Gandalf was laughing along the rowdy jokes that Nori and Dwalin were making, slapping their knees and clutching their bellies. 

It was such a lovely night filled with laughter and warmth that Bilbo had to take a moment for himself, stepping to the side and watching from afar. It was too much for his old Hobbit heart. Their laughter was so full of life, that Bilbo could almost forget what had happened last time. Fili and Kili were teasing poor Ori about the librarian in Rivendell, he could tell from the blush on Ori’s cheeks. Balin and Thorin were laughing at something Bofur had said. It was almost surreal. 

He turned away from them, wandering off to the side. They were on the edge of the forest now, ahead of them were open fields filled with flowers and bushels. He walked slowly alongside the trees, careful to not stray too far from his company. His. He clutched the walking stick, feeling the familiar choking feeling in his throat. He would cry like a baby if he wasn’t careful. 

It had been much easier to suppress his feelings when they hadn’t gotten so familiar with him. And now- now, Thorin would look at him and send him these little _smiles_ \- that Bilbo didn’t even know what to do with himself. 

_He didn’t smile at you like that when he had still been alive._

Bilbo leant against a tree with his left hand, clutching the stick. His leg throbbed slightly as the Ring whispered in the back of his mind. He frowned to himself, nodding. ‘ _That’s true enough. I guess I never gave him reason enough to. Things are different this time around.’_

_But is he smiling like that at you because of Yavanna’s magic in you? You’re so much more useful this time around. With the Valar on your side, with me. I am making you so much more powerful._

That thought had crossed his mind, too. He slid down the tree slowly, folding his leg in his lap and rubbing it gently. There was not much he could with his left hand so he used his right hand mainly, laying down the stick next to him. 

_‘I am much more useful. But it’s not you. I was more useful already before I found you. It’s Yavanna, definitely.’_ He watched the others move around the fire, clearing an area. It seemed like Dwalin and Gloin were taking off their armour to wrestle in front of everyone. That hadn’t happened last time, either. ‘ _Leave me be, now. I would like to enjoy this moment of peace without you doubting their affections for me.’_

_I am not the only one doubting their affections for you._

The Ring answered but said nothing else. It didn’t need to. 

#

Bilbo stayed like that for a while. Watching from afar. He noticed both Ori and Thorin looking towards him with what must have been worried faces. Thorin leant over to Gandalf, who turned around to look at the Hobbit, who was laying against the tree far from the rest. 

If he was honest with himself, this was as much as he could handle without bursting into tears and sobbing like a babe. It was almost like sitting too close to fire, almost burning himself. It was when Thorin got up and took off his cloak to wrestle Dwalin that Bilbo could not stay anymore, instead walking further into the forest. He would have loved to watch, he was sure it would be a good fight, however nature had called him in that moment and he needed to relieve himself. 

Just when he had finished, he could hear low growling from behind him. His right hand flew to his belt and recoiled as if burned. He cursed underneath his breath, having taken off his sword and leaving it at camp. Too relaxed, too happy. He still had his walking stick but it wouldn’t do much in a fight. 

Another growl. He could hear movement, whatever it was, it was circling him right now. He held out his walking stick in front of him and took a few steps back, careful to put his weight on his healthy leg. It must be an animal from the growling. Orcs didn’t growl like that. 

There was a huge shadow in front of him, growing and growing until it reached the treetops. The moonlight was weakly shining through but it did nothing to show the creature in front of Bilbo. 

Bilbo didn’t move a muscle, narrowing his eyes at the creature. His eyes were not made for this, though they were adjusting slowly. The creature didn’t move either, just growling almost quietly. 

He was sure his dwarves would discover his mangled body when they came looking for him. Was he about to die like this? Some creature’s dinner? He couldn’t fail Yavannah like this. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back and facing the sky, praying to her now. 

Just as the creature took another step towards him, placing himself in the pale moonlight, Bilbo could feel Yavanna’s warmth fill him and his eyes glowed softly. It was almost as if Yavanna had occupied her body for a split second. Just like that, her warmth left him quickly, the ache in his leg and left hand returning to him. 

Bilbo regained his eyesight, blinking a couple of times and stared at the creature in front of him. 

_Beorn_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @pallalalo on instagram for some hobbit related scenes!


	2. The Bearman and the Hobbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Where is our Hobbit? Where is Bilbo?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments!!!! they really kept me motivated. this chapter was much more difficult to write (my motivation is at an all time 0 with the amount of school work i have to complete in the next few weeks :(((( )
> 
> but thank you thank you thank you for sticking with me and giving me such great comments!!!!

Beorn was just as massive as Bilbo had remembered. There was an endless sea of brown fur with sharp claws that could slice through him easily, and a mouth filled with equally sharp teeth. The bear stood up, reaching his full height with his head scraping the leaves of the tree. He was intimidating, striking fear with just his existence. 

But then, he transformed back into his human form, the fur receding into his skin and the claws turning into fingers. He shrank in size but only slightly- still towering over the shaking Bilbo. 

“What is a bunny like you doing here in these woods?” Beorn knelt down but even then, he was still much taller than Bilbo. The Hobbit swallowed down his fear and smiled slightly.

“I’m travelling with my friends.” He pointed in the direction of their campfire, “A wizard and a lot of dwarves. I was just on a walk, myself. What about you? What is a bear like you doing here?” He asked, feigning ignorance. He knew all too well what this bear was doing here, what he was suspecting of them. 

Beorn had scrunched his nose in disgust at the mention of dwarves, leaning back on the heels of his feet. “Dwarves are lousy company, little Bunny.” He simply said, waiting for Bilbo’s response. 

  
Bilbo smiled softly, “They’re not as bad as I expected. You just have to dig past the cold layer of distrust and into their hearts.” He waved his hands as he talked, as if the two of them were old friends talking about gossip and not Bilbo’s choice of travel companions. His leg was aching with the pressure of standing upright, a slight throbbing feeling. It wouldn’t be long before he needed to lay back down. 

Beorn noticed the hobbit shifting from foot to foot, trying to alleviate the pain but not yet comfortable enough to move. He nudged Bilbo slightly, poking him in his belly as if he was a scared rabbit. “They let you wander around on an injury.” He observed, tilting his head. 

“They don’t let me, I choose to.” Bilbo huffed but sat down with Beorn's help, stretching out his legs. “I’ll be damned if anyone thinks they can tell me what to do and where to go.” He said defiantly and proudly. Beorn nodded, a warm smile on his face now. Those had been the right words to say, as the gentle giant chuckled. He had been less trusting last time, when they had stolen away into his home. This time, he was sure, it had something to do with Yavanna's light that had shone brightly before Beorn had revealed himself. That, and Beorn had a weak spot for Hobbits (as Bilbo had found out much later- and he shouldn't have been surprised. Beorn shared the love for nature that Hobbits held.)

“As is right. You mentioned a wizard, too? What kind of group is this?” Beorn inquired and folded his legs underneath him, mirroring Bilbo’s position. It was almost comical, the size difference between the Bear-man and the Hobbit. 

“One that has come across many adventures and one that will come across many more.” Bilbo started. He knew he had Beorn’s interest now. The giant appreciated a good tale or two, especially if they were true. He had helped them once he had heard out their perils, he could only hope he would do so now. 

#

“Where is our Hobbit? Where is Bilbo?” 

“You were supposed to look after him! How could you let him get lost?!”

“He was just going on a walk, I didn’t think anything of it!” 

Bilbo could hear the cries of his dwarves, could make out the voices from Thorin, Ori and Oin, all fighting over where their burglar had disappeared to. He was sat on Beorn’s shoulders, his hands holding onto the Bear-man’s wild mane as they emerged from the forest. It warmed his heart to see them so worried about him.

“There he is!”

“Is that a giant?!”

“Get off him!” 

“Beorn!” Gandalf walked over briskly with a bright smile on his face, the moonlight shining down on his face illuminated the wrinkles on his face, showing off their age and wisdom. “How lucky we are to have found you, and how lucky Bilbo is for you to have found him!”

Beorn huffed, hands on Bilbo’s legs, thumb rubbing gently over the bandages. It was clear to Bilbo how quickly Beorn became protective of those he cared about. Somewhere between telling him of the mountain trolls and rivendell, Beorn had asked him about the green glow and his old soul. It hadn’t taken long to finish the story, of his second chance at this life. 

_“I will do whatever it takes to help you, bunny.”_

The words had relieved Bilbo endlessly, tears of joy threatening to spill over. He felt so fortunate to have Beorn’s vow of aid, as well as Gandalf and the Lady Galadriel. A new-found confidence settled in his heart, battling the arrogance that the Ring tried to build. 

It was a weird feeling, to say the least. 

“Fortunate! Indeed.” Beorn chuckled, “This little bunny has told me of your adventures. Orcs, and trolls!” He shook his head, shaking Bilbo gently with him. The dwarves were running over in formation, weapons drawn and ready to attack whoever had taken their Hobbit. 

“We were worried at our Hobbit’s disappearance. It seems he makes friends wherever he goes.” Thorin said carefully, sheathing his sword as soon as Gandalf glared at them viciously. The leader looked upon Bilbo on Beorn’s shoulder with a certain look that Bilbo couldn’t place until he looked away. Fili had leant up to his uncle’s ear, whispering something with a bright smile. 

“Our dear Hobbit has a talent for that.” Gandalf chuckled, hands placed on his belt, turning back to Bilbo and looking awfully pleased with himself. Bilbo glared at everyone, trying hard not to look like a pouting child. 

“The Hobbit is right here, if you don’t mind. And yes, I find decent manners to be very useful in making friends. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Beorn, can you please let me down, now?” Bilbo asked, leaning over to look at the giant’s face. 

Beorn laughed, “But Bunny! What about your leg?” The giant patted Bilbo’s healthy leg. Bilbo bit his lip, thinking it might have been a mistake to ask Beorn this as he saw the light gleam in almost every dwarf’s eyes. 

“Bunny!”

“An uncanny resemblance, surely!”

“A burglar, or a bunny?”

“He did eat all the salads in Rivendell!”

Laughter and cheers went around and Bilbo groaned, hiding his face underneath both of his hands, shaking his head. He slid his fingers slightly apart, peaking out to see Thorin’s reactions. He knew the other dwarf was incredibly protective, and as it appeared to Bilbo the other night, may have a jealous streak. This might have gone over his head if he truly was a 50 year old Hobbit. But he was much older now, seen much more, to ever disregard Thorin’s feelings of protection for him. 

Thorin surprised him however, chuckling slightly. The way he had his arm curled around Fili and Kili suggested to Bilbo that it had something to do with his nephews. Was it the way Beorn had Bilbo on his shoulders, the way a father would have his babe on his shoulders? There was some tension in Thorin’s hands, the way they were curled, clenching the material of his nephews’ shoulders. 

“Come now, my home is not far away.” Beorn proved himself to be a man of few, but effective words. The dwarves all but scrambled back to camp to pack up quickly at the promise of an actual house with walls. Maybe it had been the way Gandalf seemed so at ease with Beorn that promised the dwarves that there would be no problems. Thorin hovered slightly, opening his mouth as if to say something. 

“Do not worry, dwarf-lord. There are no orcs in my home and no trolls.” Beorn reassured him, “I vowed to help this Hobbit and I will do so, even if it means having dwarves in my home.” He grimaced a bit towards the end, which caused Thorin to frown angrily but he said no more, giving one last confused look to Bilbo and stormed off to the camp. 

Gandalf stayed behind, not having unpacked much to begin with. He took a step closer towards Beorn and Bilbo, lowering his hat to cover his face now. 

“Did you see it too?” Gandalf asked quietly. Bilbo was not sure what he meant, or which one he was speaking to. 

Beorn hummed, a low sound, “Aye. Not everyone has such a nice green glow about them.” He patted Bilbo’s leg again to which Bilbo huffed simply, laying his hands gentle on Beorn’s head. He didn’t say anything to that, simply sighing. His left hand was still bruised, an ugly purple colour spreading across the two fingers he couldn’t feel anymore. 

“So you understand?” Gandalf looked up now, the cheer from his eyes gone. Instead, a deep magic reflected in his eyes and Bilbo gasped softly, mouth hanging open.

“Aye.” Beorn nodded, “I understand.”

“I don’t.” Bilbo chimed in, frowning but he was ignored by the two men-like creatures as Beorn started walking with Gandalf towards the camp. 

#

What Beorn understood as ‘not far away’ was nowhere near the same as Bilbo understood as ‘not far away’. It didn’t matter much, as Beorn refused to let Bilbo walk on his own, still carrying him on his shoulders. He was sure he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Bofur and the others as soon as he was let down. If he was ever let down. 

The dwarves were marching with conviction behind Beorn and Gandalf, determined not to fall behind more than a few feet. Bilbo started to doubt the decision to leave their camp and march through the fields at night just as the familiar view of the small, curated garden with the cottage came into view. 

“Finally!”

“Thank Mahal!”

“Any longer and I would have staunchly refused to walk another step!”

Bilbo looked over his shoulder at the dwarves, smiling apologetically. Ori noticed him and waved at him, chuckling at something Bofur had said next to him. Oddly enough, as nice as it had been to be carried by Beorn for the entire journey, he missed walking next to his friends. 

Beorn opened his home for the dwarves, finally setting Bilbo gently down on the table. “You can set up camp wherever you like. I only have a spare bedroom. Fight it out amongst yourself. I have to go now, I have already missed too much of the night. I will return in the morning.” He nodded at the dwarves, then leant down and ruffled Bilbo’s hair as if Bilbo had been a child. 

Without waiting for their response, he left the house and started running, turning into his bear form mid-air. Gandalf closed the doors behind him, barricading them. 

“That might have been the weirdest night so far. In all of this journey.” Kili said after a bout of silence and started taking off his weapons and coat. Fili took off his over-coat as well, and the dwarves started to scout out the most comfortable spots to sleep in. It appeared a unanimous decision to leave the room to Gandalf. 

Thorin walked towards Bilbo slowly, hesitant to speak. Bilbo waited, moving down from the table slowly too. 

“I am unsure of what to say.” Thorin finally said something, standing a little bit too close to Bilbo. The Hobbit held his breath, looking up into the King’s face with a small smile. “The Giant seems to have taken a liking towards you.” 

Bilbo pressed his lips together, taking a bold move and placed his hands on top of Thorin’s fur-coat. “He has. I think he likes the story I told him.” 

“And what story is that?” Thorin frowned, leaning down towards Bilbo slowly. There was something undeniable between them, something that made Bilbo’s heart feel both light and heavy at the same time. 

“The story of a dwarf-king taking his family home, no matter the odds.” Bilbo looked up at Thorin, “It’s a story I quite like as well.” 

That seemed to please Thorin, who smiled in an uncharacteristically coy way. “Thankfully we have such a good storyteller in our company, then. Ori was tasked with documenting this journey. You should offer your help to him, to ensure we get your perspective too.”

“You think so?” Bilbo raised his eyebrows, curling his hands into the fur of Thorin’s coat. 

  
Dwalin cleared his throat behind Thorin, a badly hidden smile on his face. “Thorin, we need to talk about supplies with Oin and Bombur. If we could steal a small minute of your time.” 

Bilbo jumped backwards, taking aback by Dwalin’s sudden presence, trying his best not to blush too hard. Thorin closed his eyes, frowning slightly. 

“Of course, Dwalin. Of course.” Thorin sighed, looking down at Bilbo. He licked his lips, “If you are in need of more layers, do not hesitate to ask me for my coat.” his voice was so quiet Bilbo almost missed his words, nodding silently. 

Thorin took his nod as confirmation and nodded as well, smiling now. He turned around to face Dwalin, Oin and Bombur who were all smirking at the pair. Thorin barked something in khuzdul and led them away from Bilbo. 

Bilbo watched him leave and Thorin peered over his shoulder for a split second but it was enough for their eyes to connect and for Bilbo’s face to become as red as his prized tomatoes. He ended up bunking with the Ri brothers, curled up in front of the fireplace. Morning came all too soon, barely a few hours after Bilbo had managed to fall asleep. He hadn’t seen Thorin emerge from his meeting with the other dwarves and had agreed to sleep near the Ri brothers for added protection. 

“Protection from what? We are safe here. Beorn said so himself.” Bilbo had frowned at the implication that something bad would happen here. It was difficult to picture, not with Beorn hunting the grounds for Orcs. 

“You never know, Bilbo. We’d just feel a lot better if you slept near us.” Dori had placed his hand on his shoulder with such a _motherly_ expression that it had torn Bilbo’s heart in two. 

“Oh, alright. Only because it makes you feel better.” Bilbo had acquiesced and curled up with his bag as a pillow and the three Ri brothers around him in a half circle. 

#

“You mean to reach the mountain before Durin’s Day.” Beorn said calmly, sitting at the end of the table with a piece of bread in his hands. It was so different from the first time they met; instead of the imposing, stubborn figure who supported them out of spite against the Orcs it was this giant man at ease with the knowledge of the Other. 

Bilbo sat next to him, busying himself with stuffing his mouth with as much food as he could. He had slimmed down a scandalous amount for a Hobbit, missing the plumpness of his stomach dearly. Following his lead, the other dwarves, shy and secretive last time, were much more open and jovial. Bilbo and Gandalf had shown their ease and trust with Beorn, which was something that he knew had to do with his divine guardian. 

“Aye. We also mean to cross through mirkwood forest.” Thorin nodded, sat in between Bilbo and Balin. Before he could continue however, Beorn abruptly stood up and shook his head. 

“A darkness lies upon that forest. Fell things creep beneath those trees. I would not venture there except in great need.” Beorn leant forward on the back of the chair, some of his dogs coming around and hovering at his feet. “The Elves in that forest have forgotten their duty. They care not for travellers going through their forest. They especially won’t care for a bunch of dwarves going through their precious forest.” He explained, eyes wandering over the Company and lingering on Bilbo. 

“We don’t have the time to go north. We have no choice but to go through the forest. There is a path, is there not?” Thorin frowned at Beorn, arm resting on the back of Bilbo’s chair in what Bilbo assumed was supposed to be a relaxed manner however he came across as possessive. He would be lying if he didn’t find it a little endearing, leaning back into the touch. It made no sense. There was no danger of a potential interest for the Hobbit here, and yet Thorin felt the need to display such care. It was wrong to let himself indulge in such behaviour, after all, he would never be able to stay with Thorin in his kingdom after this journey ended. 

Beorn leant his head to the side, eyes flitting from Thorin to Bilbo and back. “The path matters not, Thorin Oakenshield. This land is crawling with Orcs. Their numbers are growing.” Instead of speaking to the Company, he turned to Bilbo. “It is a dangerous journey you are undertaking, but you are not without allies. I dislike dwarves. I find that they are greedy, and careless for life they deem unworthy. But Orcs I hate more.”

The giant bear-man walked around the table, watching Dwalin nudge off a mouse from his arm and picked it up gently, the dogs following his steps. He looked back up at Thorin, eyes set in determination. 

“What do you need?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im hoping the next chapter will be much easier to write (more action-based) and hopefully the next chapter will be up in the next 1- 2 weeks!!!! <3 <3 i hope you enjoy! (i was tempted to have a mini battle between beorn and the dwarves however i just loved the idea of Beorn vibing with Bilbo HARD.... nature bros)
> 
> update 26/05/2020: i edited some of the chapter. it's been REALLY busy the last couple of weeks: i handed in my dissertation, i handed in my other pieces of coursework and then i handed in my two exams!!! SO I'm done <3 
> 
> which means I'm done with uni for the summer; i'll have much more time to focus on this story and updating much more regularly. I'm so excited, i have so much planned for this story! thank you everyone so much for the comments, they are all so lovely and i will take the time to reply to all of them soon!
> 
> next update will be approxametly on either Friday or Saturday (29th or 30th May 2020, so hold on everyone <3)


	3. A Restful Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo let himself allow this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM BACK
> 
> see notes at the end for like... full notes!

While Thorin and Dwalin were discussing the supplies they would need from Beorn, Bilbo was sitting with Fili and Kili in Beorn’s garden. Giant bees were buzzing in the air, flying from flower to flower. It was so reminiscent of the Shire, that all Bilbo had to do was close his eyes and it felt like home. There were vegetables buried in the earth, their leaves sprouting with such vibrant colour that Bilbo knew exactly when they were due. The flowers were planted with care and planning, leaving pathways strewn out throughout the garden so anyone could admire the flower beds without accidentally stepping on them. 

It wasn’t the height of summer anymore, the winds becoming a little more chilly, though the sun was shining brightly on this specific day. 

“The sun feels nice, doesn’t it, Fee?” Kili asked softly, stroking his brother’s hair gently. Fili was laying down in just his tunic and trousers, though Bilbo was sure he had hidden knives on his body. Kili, on the other hand, had his bow and quiver full of arrows strung around his back, and had Fili’s head in his lap. While Fili’s main two braids were still in tact, Kili was brushing his hair with such care and love that it almost seemed too private of a moment to share. 

“I think this is the first time in years where we’ve just-” Fili gestured around the garden and smiled at Bilbo, “relaxed. I can feel the sun melting away all my wrinkles.” Kili laughed at that, shaking his head.

“Brother, I don’t think anything could melt away your wrinkles. So ugly.” Kili grinned as Fili reached up and smacked his younger brother in the shoulder. 

“Don’t listen to him, Fili.” Bilbo grinned to himself, sitting away from them. He had his legs crossed over each other, rubbing his injured leg with his right hand. He was stretching his left hand out, moving his thumb and first finger. It was the only thing he could do with his hand. When Yavanna had filled him with her light, the numbness had filled out too. A phantom pinky. Almost like Yavanna had healed his hand perfectly, undoing the pain and trauma. When she left, the numbness returned. It’s only been a couple of days but Bilbo didn’t think he’d ever get used to this feeling. 

“Do you think I’m handsome then, Bilbo?” Fili perked up with a mischievous grin. Kili as well turned around. Bilbo, however, had his back turned to them and his eyes closed, face turned upwards to the sun but he could feel their eyes burning into his back. 

“I think if you decided to move to the Shire, that you’d have to fend off Hobbit lasses left and right.” Bilbo smiled, ears perking up with Fili’s gasp. 

“Really? What about me?” Kili asked. He didn’t have to watch Kili to know that Kili was stroking his chin right now, lamenting silently the lack of beard.

“You too, Kili, if not more so. I can hear the teens already know, ‘ _such kind eyes_ ’!” Bilbo chuckled to himself. “You are just out of teenhood, aren’t you?” Bilbo knew already, but they didn’t know this. 

“Yeah, I’m all but a fully-grown, _matured_ adult.” Kili nodded to himself, sounding very satisfied. 

“You are but a babe in Uncle’s eyes, Kee.” Fili laughed, sitting up and clapping his hand on his brother’s shoulder. 

“I think that’s just how uncles are. My own nephew will always be babe in my eyes.” Bilbo turned around but paused after he realized what he just said. Fili and Kili looked at him with wide eyes and the silence lasted for a mere moment before pandemonium broke out and he had two bouncing dwarves tackle him to the ground. 

“You never said-”

“You’re an uncle _too_ -”

“We _knew_ you were uncle material-”

“Why didn’t you _say-_ ”

Bilbo let out a small shout and groan, closing his eyes tightly when his back hit the floor. Fili and Kili had pinned him to the floor with such bright laughter that Bilbo felt like an old man, his eyes hurting from the noise. 

“Let me _go_ -” Bilbo groaned, trying to wriggle out from underneath them. “ _Yes,_ I have a nephew, I love him very much but it just never came up in conversation.” He grumbled when Kili and Fili let him sit up. 

It was just then when Beorn appeared from the house, walking towards them with a huge smile. _Thank Yavanna_ , Bilbo thought with a lazy smile. The Giant approached them slowly and sat down in front of them, slouching to make himself smaller. One of the giant bees paused on a flower and buzzed loudly, flying towards Beorn and settling on his shoulder. Beorn smiled softly and with one finger, stroked the soft back of the bee. 

This had never happened last time. They had spent such little time with the Giant, and it had been filled with tension. Beorn had never gotten to speak with Kili and Fili. The sound of Beorn speaking with the two young brothers filtered out and Bilbo was struck with a memory that left him sweating and crying- 

Beorn had his hands on the small of Bilbo’s back. Fili and Kili had never looked so pale in their lives. Balin had had them dressed in the finest clothes they could find, laid on each side of Thorin, the last of the Durin males given back to the stone. The cries of Dis were unbearable, and Bilbo could not bear to hear her anymore. He stood to the back, having paid his respects already, and Beorn had comforted him, wiped his tears and told him not to spill so many tears about dwarves. Bilbo had yelled at him that Beorn didn’t _know_ them- he had never even spoken to Fili and Kili. 

“What do you think, Bilbo?” Fili asked, placing a gentle hand on top of Bilbo’s left hand. Bilbo was torn out of his thoughts, flinching backwards and away from the sudden touch. 

He panted suddenly, eyes focusing on the dwarf in front of him, but his lungs had never felt so tight. He clenched his right hand into a tight fist, frowning. He was so sick and tired of _this_ \- he could never live in the moment for long, always pulled back to the memories of his old life. 

It was _over._ It was _done._ It was _finished_. 

Why couldn’t he stay focused?

“-ny? Are you feeling alright?” Beorn leant forward, reaching out to touch Bilbo’s head. Fili and Kili were on either side of him, frowning. 

“What?” Bilbo asked, shaking his head. “I’m fine. I-I apologize, I was distracted by a memory. It’s nothing.” He stayed still, letting Beorn’s large hand pet his hair, rubbing his scalp as if he truly was a bunny. Bilbo would never admit it comforted him greatly. 

“Aye.” Beorn nodded, a grim look replacing his once relaxed smile. “Memories plague me too.” He confessed and sat back down, taking his hand away from Bilbo’s hair. Bilbo missed it already. 

“Is this about Azog the defiler, Beorn?” Kili asked with wide eyes, looking at the metal clamp around Beorn’s wrist. 

Beorn nodded, closing his eyes. His voice shook with fury when he spoke again, “Once there were many of my kind. But Azog the defiler killed most of my family. Then, once he captured the rest of us, he would keep us in chains. Hunt us for sport.” 

And in that moment, something happened, which Bilbo never thought would. 

Kili rested a hand on Beorn’s arm, the scarred, tanned skin covered with Kili’s young, calloused hand. 

Beorn, taken aback by the touch of a dwarf, looked up at Bilbo with raised eyebrows. Instead of reacting with anger and hatred, the way Bilbo had always experienced Beorn when it came to dwarves, Beorn’s frown softened. Bilbo thought he could see something within Beorn’s eyes. A sense of recognition, perhaps. Or was it the young age of Kili? 

“I am now the last of my kind.” Beorn put his hand on top of Kili’s hair, stroking the rowdy, rough brown hair. Kili looked up at him with a sad smile. 

“I heard of the last of Durin's line.” Beorn continued, eyes focused on Bilbo. Fili frowned at this, looking up the Giant who had his hand cradled around Kili’s head as if he was a puppy. “I was powerless to stop Azog the first time. I could do nothing to stop him from killing my family.” 

Bilbo spotted Thorin exiting the house and pausing at Beorn’s words, standing next to the door. He made eye contact with the Hobbit, who gave him a weak smile. 

“Now, he will do everything he can to kill your family.” Beorn looked back at Kili, letting the words hand in the air. The weight behind them felt impossibly heavy; the weight of somebody who has lived with grief for too long. The bee on his shoulder buzzed again, now louder and nuzzled into the crook of Beorn’s neck. 

Kili, however, looked past this weight and with determined, bright eyes, he stood up, clenching his fists. “He won’t succeed. We will stop him and our revenge will be a life lived long and healthy! And that’s what you’re doing right now!” He said, Beorn’s hand still curled around his head. 

Beorn looked taken aback by this sudden onslaught of optimism but smiled slowly and nodded. “The day I find myself agreeing with a dwarf has finally come.” He chuckled and stood up, letting go of Kili’s head. “Lunch will be prepared shortly. Don’t disturb the bees.” He nodded at the swarm of bees that was gathering by a Hive. 

Thorin stood to the side as Beorn walked past him, acknowledging him with a nod, heading inside. 

“Uncle! Come sit with us!” Kili smiled brightly, waving at him to clome closer. 

The leader of the company was dressed simply like the rest of them, with his sword tied to his belt. Bilbo couldn’t look away from him, not when Thorin’s tunic was bunched up around his arms, showing off his muscular arms. 

“It’s a nice day, today.” Thorin said awkwardly as he sat down across from Bilbo in between his nephews, where Beorn had just sat. 

“When are we leaving, Uncle?” Fili leant on his uncle, smiling happily. Something about the serenity of Beorn’s garden had mellowed out the tension in everyone’s shoulders. 

“Tomorrow morning. Today, we rest.” Thorin sighed softly, readjusting his sword so both of his nephews could lean against him. 

“I’m surprised you’re in favour of us resting, Uncle.” Kili confessed, stretching out his legs and leaning his head towards the sun, looking impossibly young. 

Thorin shrugged, tense while both of his nephews were cuddled up to him. Bilbo watched with a soft smile as Thorin put his arms around each dwarf. 

“I know, I know. But we could all use some rest, especially before we enter Mirkwood.” Thorin sighed, a grim expression on his face. “I have heard tales of Mirkwood. It was long ago when we were forced to cross it, and it was not pleasant then, I can assure you it won’t be any better now.” He frowned. Even with the hot sun shining down on them, surrounded by all things green, Thorin had a dark look on his face. Today it seemed that memories were a heavy weight for everyone. 

#

“To get through this forest, we will need all of our focus.” Gandalf said, blowing out some smoke as he talked. He was sat with Bilbo, outside of the hut, on a bench too low for Gandalf and too high for Bilbo. 

The day had gone by slowly, and quietly. It was a day none of them would forget for a while. Thorin had stayed outside with his nephews, taking this time to re-braid their hair properly. The other dwarves had joined them as well, preferring to dwell in crowds rather than separated. Beorn had made an enormous lunch, though no meat it was very different to a lunch prepared by elves, and it had filled everyone’s stomach greatly. 

Thorin and Dwalin were currently wrestling, surrounded by the other dwarves with shouts filling the late summer air. It was not late enough for the sun to set, though it was certainly heading that way. 

Ori sat at Bilbo’s feet, leaning his head against his calves. “It’s a good thing Master Beorn is letting us rest, then. I don’t think I’ve felt this calm since we left the blue Mountains.”

Bilbo nodded, leaning backwards against the house. “This would be considered a perfect day in the Shire. The summer sun, green grass, surrounded by vegetables, a stomach filled with food, and good company.” He took a sip from his cup, which had been filled with mead by Beorn. 

“I’m afraid of what will await us in the forest ahead.” Ori confessed, turning around to stare up at Bilbo and Gandalf. 

There were no words of comfort to tell the young dwarf as Gandalf could guess what awaited them; and Bilbo knew exactly what awaited them. 

Instead, Bilbo chose to give him some hope. “You are right to do so. It will be a tough journey, and after that, there will be more fearful things that await us. But we will face those together.” He reached out and rested a hand on Ori’s head. His own head had been petted and brushed so many times today, by Beorn and by a tumbling pair of dwarf brothers, that it only felt natural now to brush through Ori’s hair. 

“Together.” Ori nodded and leant into the touch. 

#

Beorn stood, impossibly tall, next to Bilbo and huffed, “They are too rowdy for my animals.” 

Bilbo gave him a placating smile, “It’s in their nature, I think.” 

The Company had retired inside the house, now stood in front of a fire, Ori was telling a story with some of the Company eager to hear, and other parts of the Company laying back and enjoying the scene. Ori had Fili, Kili, Bofur, and Dori in front of him, praising and listening. The other dwarves sat behind them, mugs of mead in their hands and good-natured jokes flowing between them. 

“They’re loud. My bunnies will not have a peaceful night, tonight. I look forward to their departure.” Beorn grumbled, hands on his belt. 

“But you will miss my company, surely?” Bilbo grinned, looking up. He barely reached the man’s hips. Beorn looked at him through the sides of his eyes and smiled slowly.   
  
“I will miss my bunny, yes.” Beorn admitted with a rough smile. 

“Master Baggins, will you sing for us?” Ori called out then, hand reached out towards him. The entire Company turned around to look at him, hopeful eyes, all of them. 

Bilbo pouted, “Hobbits aren’t known for their ballads, Ori.” He protested half-heartedly, hands held out in front of his chest and shaking them softly to deny Ori. 

“We’ve sung for you, Master Hobbit. Don’t you think it's time you return the favour?” Ori countered, with a sudden gust of bravery and mead, grinning brightly. Bilbo could hear Fili and Kili shout in amusement, clinking their mugs together. Ori must have heard him singing underneath his breath, or hum, at one point or another, or else he would not ask such a question. 

Bilbo was not convinced and he was not about to give in to Ori’s pleading eyes, when he spotted Thorin. He may have been immune to the hopeful eyes of a young dwarf (he had years of practise with resisting Frodo’s puppy eyes, after all) however there was something else about the curious look on Thorin’s eyes. 

“I suppose I might know a fitting song or two.” Bilbo gave in, and it was worth it to see an excited smile bloom on Thorin’s face. Beorn, with his large hand, slapped Bilbo’s back, causing him to stumble forwards. 

“Though I really ought to warn you that you dwarves probably won’t favour this song as much as Hobbits do.” Bilbo chuckled softly, “The only ballad I can think of right now is one about warm summer days, and it is one that has been passed down for generations. Rumour has it that it is even older than most Hobbit families.” He walked past dwarves, sat on the floor, limping slightly, and paused when he stood next to Ori. 

Bilbo took a deep breath, taking one last look at Thorin and started singing, hoping that his voice wouldn’t be too shaky with Thorin’s eyes on him. 

“The air is so pure and the breezes so fine,

The zephyrs so balmy and light,

That I would not exchange my home here to range

Forever in azures so bright.

How often at night when the heavens are bright

I see the light of those flickering stars

Have I laid there amazed and asked as I gazed

If their glory exceeds that of love”

He had the attention of everyone, from Thorin and the Company, to Gandalf sat in the back with a glint in his eyes, to Beorn who was watching with a soft smile. He finished the ballad, clutching his cup with his right hand and leaning on Ori with his left arm. 

When he finished, there was a soft lull in the air, the quiet crackling of the fire behind him, and the mellow chittering of the animals in the background. 

“That was beautiful, Bilbo.” Ori smiled, supporting Bilbo with his weight. 

Thorin nodded and stood up, “I think that’s a good ending to the night. Everyone, rest well, we start at dawn.” He finished his mug and walked over to Bilbo and Ori. “You have many hidden talents, Master Baggins.” He said once he paused in front of Bilbo, specifically, looking down at the Hobbit with a shy smile. 

It was enough to cause Bilbo’s cheeks to redden slightly. Ori must have taken this as a cue to leave as he held out his hand high and said, “What was that, Dori? Did you need me for something?” and made his escape, leaving Bilbo to balance himself alone in front of Thorin. 

“Thank you.” Bilbo mumbled, quite unsure of what to do with himself. “I haven’t sung that in ages.”

“Yet your voice shows no sign of neglect.” Thorin held out his hand for Bilbo to balance himself on. Bilbo took it silently and moved with Thorin as they both started walking to where Bilbo had set up his sleeping bag from the night before. 

They stood for a moment, no words spoken aloud, but their words were louder than anything they could have said. The dwarves around them must have gotten ready for sleep, Beorn ready to leave, and Gandalf must have left to sleep in the room allotted to him, but Bilbo was not sure. He wasn’t paying attention to them at all. All he really remembered from this night, was how Thorin had looked at him with a vulnerable look, as if unsure of how to proceed with Bilbo. 

So, Bilbo played it safe. He knew this was not the end to his story, that there was a lot of work that needed to be done after he finished this quest- should he even finish it alive. The silence of the Ring meant nothing good- it only meant there was more evil to come later. 

“The others look to you. Mirkwood will play a lot of tricks on us, I’m sure. But if you stay steady and strong, then we will make it through.” Bilbo squeezed Thorin’s wrist weakly and with Thorin’s help, lowered himself onto his sleeping bag, set up between Ori and Dori. 

“We will make it through together. We have a magic Hobbit in our midst, after all.” Thorin knelt in front of Bilbo, not letting go of his hands. “If you get too cold in the night, the invitation to join the Durin pile still stands. I’m sure the boys look to you as family now.”

Bilbo let himself allow this moment. It was harder and harder to resist the pull that was between them; he was not a fool to think Thorin to be blind to this. 

“Thank you, Thorin.” He mumbled sweetly and pressed his lips to the top of Thorin’s knuckles, a short, sweet kiss. 

It was worth it, to see Thorin’s face nearly red. He let go of the Hobbit’s hands and retreated to his nephews’ sleeping bags, ignoring their laughter. 

Ori appeared from nowhere, leaning against Bilbo. “Do you know what you’re doing with him, Bilbo?” He grinned, a hopeful expression with no hint of doubt. 

Bilbo simply sighed, patting the young dwarf on his shoulder. 

“I hope so, Ori.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOWOWOWOWOWOW
> 
> thank you so much for all of the love!!!!!
> 
> this chapter was mainly fluff (because the world is... a rough place right now. with everything in the news, i felt like i wanted to write some comfort.) but dont worry, the next chapter will be full of action. I know i said this a while ago but then i got too boggled down by exams and school but now im done! i have the summer free, thankfully, and i can dedicate my time to this now. 
> 
> (I dont have a beta- so i apologize for any mistakes or inconsistencies!) 
> 
> The song that bilbo sings is a traditional song from the 19th century called "Home on the Range" and its such a nice song that i really enjoy but i also felt it fits nicely
> 
> <3 <3


	4. A Braid for Bilbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Th-thank you-” Bilbo stuttered, red in his face. Whatever this emotion was, it was grounding Bilbo very suddenly. His head had been floating high with the illusions of this forest, but whenever Thorin had put his hands on him, Bilbo felt tethered to reality all of a sudden. 
> 
> Thorin nodded at him and then let go of him, turning back to the others. “Next group! Dori, Nori, Bofur, and Bifur!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo we're back to a regular schedule! i think ill be posting every couple of days, ive yet to figure out a proper writing schedule but ill do that next. I think twice weekly will work out best? i will try and post again for saturday this week. next week will be tuesday and friday!  
> Thank you, thank you for all your comments <3 I'm sorry Thranduil isn't showing up in this chapter :// BUT THERE WILL BE THRANDUIL CONTENT NEXT CHAPTER DONT WORRY

Bilbo couldn’t sleep properly. Flashes of nightmares haunted him when he did close his eyes and tried to sleep. However, when he did not try and sleep, his thoughts were similarly plagued with what lay ahead. 

Finally, at a seemingly godless hour, he stood up and walked away from the sleeping pile of dwarves. Heavy sleepers, loud snorers, Bilbo knew they made do with what they had. He respected it. But this body wasn’t used to this lifestyle. He had barely gotten used to it in his last life. 

He sat down on a windowpane, so much larger than his own in his Hobbit hole, and curled up, pressing his knees to his chest. The moon was impossibly bright on this night, shining down like the sun, illuminating the entire hut. 

It would have been beautiful, had Bilbo have any mind for such a thing. 

Going through each event in his head, he thought about possible solutions to the problems presented. It would be a long night ahead, but he started with the first problem that brought with it many more: Mirkwood. 

#

“Mahal’s beard, Bilbo, you look like a shite.” Bofur slapped the poor Hobbit on his back, with such force that Bilbo let out a wince from the pain and turned around, glaring at him. The Hobbit had dark rings under his eyes, showing off the hours he spent awake. His hair was a mess; instead of being brushed towards the back, it was a mess covering his forehead. His clothes were rumpled, and at this point, Bilbo was too tired to tug it to look proper. 

“Say that again, Bofur, and you will regret it.” Bilbo grumbled, but his words had no effect as Bofur laughed it off, shaking his head.  
  
“Aye, it’s no bother, Bilbo. I’m always here to tell my friends the truth about how they look. It’s almost a wonder.” Bofur tapped his chin lightly with two of his fingers, looking over Bilbo’s shoulder at Thorin.

Bilbo pouted, dropping his glare. “What’s a wonder?”

Bofur paused for a second and the most mischievous smirk Bilbo had _ever_ seen in both of his lives, grew on his face. 

“Stop that. Stop that _right now_ , Bofur. I do not like the look on your face.” Bilbo held up his finger in front of Bofur, indulging more and more of his cantankerous side of himself. 

“What, Bilbo? I’m not doing anything.” Bofur held up both of his hands. The two of them stood outside of Beorn’s house, they were _supposed_ to be packing supplies onto their ponies but instead, they were standing opposite each other, locked in a staring contest. Beorn had given them more supplies than last time, focusing on items that were small but nutritious that would fill their stomachs greatly. 

“Oi, what’s this?” Kili and Fili popped up behind Bofur with the biggest, childish smiles Bilbo could imagine on them. Kili broke off from the trio, standing next to Bilbo. 

“Bofur, what did you do to our poor Hobbit? He only has so much patience.” Kili said dramatically, patting the top of Bilbo’s head. 

Fili laughed, “More like, what are you planning, Bofur?”

Bofur raised his eyebrows, in a mock-move of innocence. “Me? I’m not plannin’ anything. I was just thinking here some lovely thoughts that I will indulge you two later. But for now, I think we should do as our mighty leader instructed us to do, shouldn’t we, Bilbo?”

“Ha! Don’t put this on me.” Bilbo huffed, waggling his finger at Bofur. He felt like his grandfather, shaking his finger at mischievous tricksters. “I was minding my own business, when dear old Bofur decided to insult me. And then stare at me. That’s quite rude, Bofur.” 

Kili gasped, hands held over his heart, “Bofur! How could you do this to him? What did you say?!”

Bofur, very slowly, lifted his hand and held it in front of Bilbo’s face. Bilbo narrowed his eyes, mouthing the word ‘Don’t’. “I was just observing how Bilbo doesn’t look like he slept a wink. And not sleeping has a big effect on physical appearance.” He placed the tip of his finger on Bilbo’s nose, squishing it and jumping backwards when Bilbo let out a cry and tackling Bofur, slapping what he could- in this case, he could not reach anything other than Bofur’s hands and arms as Kili and Fili grabbed him promptly and lifted him off of the toy-maker. 

“Bilbo-”

“The hobbit-”

Shouts surrounded them but Bilbo couldn’t identify who yelled what, the sleep deprivation catching up to him now. The other dwarves crowded them, now that they got everyone’s attention. Thorin burst through the middle, frowning at the scene. 

“What’s going on here?” He demanded, as Gandalf joined him in the crowd. “Bofur, what did you say to the hobbit?” Bofur, for once, couldn’t stop laughing, clutching his stomach with both of his hands. Bifur and Bombur walked over to help him back up, incredulous looks on their faces though perhaps a hint of a smile could also be seen. 

Bilbo was put back down on the ground by Kili and Fili, and struggled out of their grip. “Nothing. Nothing's happening. Just dwarves being difficult to talk to. That’s all.” Bilbo huffed, Bofur’s laughter doing nothing but teasing him longer. Thorin walked over, an unsure smile on his face and stopped in front of Bilbo, raising a hand but dropping it again. 

  
“You don’t look well, Bilbo. Didn’t you sleep last night?” Thorin asked very softly, frowning. He was leaning down, almost, tilting his head slightly. 

Bilbo hesitated, ears turning red as he could still hear Bofur laughing at him. He brushed his hair out of his face, rubbing his eyes with the other hand. His vision was a little blurry perhaps, his hands a little clammy, but otherwise, he was fine. Though most of the time he felt young again, he felt impossibly old in this moment. 

“I’m fine. It’s just my hair has become all scraggly. It makes me look more distraught than I am. I was due for a haircut before we left, anyway, and now it’s been too long. Hobbit-lads aren’t meant to have their hair this long.” He shrugged, and returned the soft smile Thorin gave him. 

Thorin, instantly, shook his head. “Your hair is a fine attribute, you should not cut it. You wouldn’t find a dwarf willing to cut your locks, in any case, as we do not gladly cut our hair.” His hair ghosted over the shortness of his beard and Bilbo nodded, remembering what he had already learnt the previous life. “Perhaps, I could braid it for you before we go.”

It was like the world went silent. Bilbo’s eyes widened in surprise. Thorin, too, looked like he hadn’t expected those words to fall out of his mouth. 

  
“You would braid my hair?” Bilbo asked, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. 

“As leader, it’s part of my duties to look after each member of the Company.” Thorin looked down, tugging on his belt nervously. “And if you struggle, then it’s my duty to offer a solution.” He seemed satisfied with this explanation, looking up again. 

Bilbo could hear whispering behind him. He could guess it was either Fili and Kili, but he nodded, anyway. “That’s true.”

“Do we really have time for this, Uncle? You woke us, telling us to hurry-” Kili called out but was silenced by Thorin’s glare. 

“We will finish packing your supplies, Uncle. Take your time.” Fili bowed his head, grabbing his younger brother and leaving the two of them. Thorin took Bilbo’s left hand, his thumb rubbing over the back of Bilbo’s fingers, but Bilbo couldn’t feel that. But he saw. Thorin guided them around the Hut and sat down on the bench, nudging Bilbo to sit on the ground in front of him. 

Silently, Thorin brushed through Bilbo’s hair with his fingers, tidying the stray hairs into a single braid down his neck, his hair long enough for the braid but not long enough for it to be longer than his neck. It was an intimate moment between them, the brush of Thorin’s fingers against Bilbo’s neck was enough for Bilbo to become red all over. Thorin tied Bilbo’s hair together, but Bilbo couldn’t see with what. 

“There you go.” Thorin finally said, his voice much lower than expected. Bilbo turned around to look at Thorin and smiled sweetly.

“Thank you, Thorin. That was very kind of you.” Bilbo spoke softly. He knew his cheeks must have been bright red, but as he turned around, Bilbo saw that Thorin’s face also was slightly red. 

“It wasn’t a problem.” Thorin shrugged but smiled back at Bilbo anyway. They stayed like that; as they always did. Neither ready to break the atmosphere, but Bilbo knew he could not allow Thorin to build up anything other than a friendly relationship with him, and yet, he kept going into situations like these. 

Bilbo placed his hand over Thorin’s and squeezed it softly, “It’s been a long time since my hair was braided.” He chuckled and stood up, reaching back to feel the braid in his hair. 

Thorin stood up as well, pouting. “When was that? I thought Hobbits don’t braid their hair.” They started walking back to the Company, who were all ready to go. Beorn stood in front of Thorin’s pony, whispering something and petting the neck. 

Bilbo sighed awkwardly, instantly regretting having said anything like this which would prompt a question about his past. “It was long ago. It was braided by my- by a dwarf I was close with.” Bilbo finally confessed. He didn’t want to lie, but he couldn’t let Thorin know. Last time, it had been Ori who had braided his hair, and even then, it hadn’t been a solid braid like this but a small one to keep the hair out of his forehead. So, it wasn’t a lie, but Bilbo definitely couldn’t tell Thorin anything else. 

Bilbo also couldn’t tell what the look on Thorin’s face meant. 

“Send my ponies back to me when you reach the edge of the forest. Do not take them inside.” Beorn said cautiously and let go of the pony, watching Thorin climb up on its back. Thorin simply nodded and turned to Balin, who was on the pony next to him, and said something in khuzdul. Balin nodded, and motioned for everyone to start riding. 

Beorn ignored the leading dwarves in favour of Bilbo and the youngest dwarves. He smiled as he watched Bilbo climb up on his pony, reaching down to pat Bilbo’s hair. 

“Goodbye, bunny. I hope our paths cross again, soon.” His whole demeanour changed when he spoke to Bilbo, turning into a peaceful and kind Giant, compared to the cautious and hateful Giant they met last time. 

Bilbo nodded, nudging his giant hand off of his head. “I know they will. But I pray that our paths will cross in peaceful times.” He looked up at the Giant and gave him one last smile, then followed the others. Bilbo could hear Beorn bid goodbye to Fili and Kili too, a change from last time. Perhaps Bilbo didn’t realize how paternal Beorn had been towards these young brothers, sneaking them an extra loaf of bread at lunch, but it filled the Hobbit with warmth to see a bond form that hadn’t last time.

“Hey, Bilbo! I like your braid!” Kili called out, laughing, “I’m looking forward to calling you ‘Uncle’ soon!”

Bilbo grumbled to himself, ignoring his teasing. 

#

The ride towards Mirkwood marked the next phase of the journey to Bilbo. There were no songs sung, no jokes told. There was a sullen atmosphere, with the only words spoken were by Thorin and Balin regarding directions. 

They went over fields of green and fields of yellow, in one line as always with Dwalin at the back and Thorin leading. Gandalf was riding ahead, much faster on his horse, ensuring the way. 

They did not pause for lunch, instead moving on and pushing through the day. 

Oddly enough, Bilbo did not feel tired. He felt much too anxious to be sleepy, though tired he was. Not only was he anxious, he felt the weight of his mission on his shoulders. Getting the Company through Mirkwood had been a challenge last time. Could he do it again?

_If you indulge in me, you will. Bilbo, together we could be incredibly strong. I can show you how strong we could be. It could be so easy, if you put me on._

The voice wasn’t a surprise, slithering into the back of his mind as a cold chill ran down his back. Bilbo didn’t respond. He wouldn’t know what he would say if he responded. He wasn’t desperate enough, but the forest ahead would push him greatly. 

_I am here, Bilbo. I am always with you._

#

They arrived just past noon, the edge of Mirkwood stretching out for miles in front of them. It was an imposing forest with dead trees lining the very edge of the forest. As the Company got closer, the more they could see. The grass became more and more yellow and sparse as they reached the edge, scattered trees becoming more and more cluttered. Gandalf must have spotted something as he took off, Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin followed as quickly as they could. 

“Something’s not right.” Ori muttered, riding next to Bilbo. 

“Agreed.” Bilbo swallowed nervously, his hands becoming more and more sweaty as they approached. 

_Something is here_. 

It took Bilbo restraint to not physically slap his pocket in which the Ring lay. 

Gandalf got off his horse, walking into the forest slowly. “The Elven Gate-” He called back to the rest as they arrived and slowly got off their ponies, “Here lies our path through Mirkwood.”

He stood on beige tiles, in front of a beautifully crafted round table. 

Gandalf disappeared into the forest again, investigating the entrance. The Company started taking the supplies off of the ponies, making quick work to reassemble their water pouches and bags of food on their belt and around their backs, readjusting to make space for their weapons. Bilbo reattached all of his bags, carrying two water-pouches filled to the brim on either side of his belt towards his back, pulling on a large pack filled with food around his back, strapping it around his shoulders. 

“Bilbo, do you think we’ll make it through there?” Ori suddenly asked, stood next to him with one hand on his pony, one hand on his belt, curled around the knife he had stashed there. “Do you feel that? There’s something in the air. I don’t trust it.” He continued, shaking his head. 

“Courage, Ori. I have your back, if anything should happen. Everyone here has your back.” Bilbo let go of his pony, rubbing comforting circles on the young dwarf’s back. “Together, we’ll make it through. And we’ll make it to the mountain in time.” 

“You sound so confident. I will follow your example.” Ori nodded and let go of his pony, letting her ride back to Beorn, who was circling them from afar. 

Bilbo nodded, “That’s a good lad, Ori.” and walked towards the others who were gathering in front of the path’s entrance around Gandalf. 

“Oh, Gandalf, but you can’t leave us alone-”

“How are we supposed to do this without you-”

“We need your magic-”

“What treacherous business is more important-”

“Enough!” Gandalf huffed angrily, nudging the dwarves back with his staff, his other hand not leaving the horse’s reins. “I’ll be waiting for you at the overlook before the slopes of Erebor.” He turned to Thorin, who was glaring at him with arms crossed over his chest, looking somehow both majestic and furious. “Keep the map and key safe. Do not enter that mountain without me.” 

Thorin nodded but turned away, turning his back on Gandalf and walking towards the forest. Dwalin followed him, leaning in to whisper something. 

Gandalf kept talking however, holding the attention from the other dwarves. “This is not the Greenwood of old. There is a stream in the woods that carries a dark enchantment. Do not touch the water. Cross only by the stone bridge. The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. Remember my words. It’ll seek to enter your mind and lead you astray. You must stay on the path. Do not leave it. If you do-” Gandalf paused and used this dramatic pause to get up on his horse, staring down at the other dwarves, “You will never find it again.” 

“What does that mean, Gandalf?”

“Why would you leave us now for this-”

“But you’re a wizard, Gandalf, you can fight this-”

Gandalf huffed, “Unbelievable. I told you what you need to do. Now go and do it!” He locked eyes with Bilbo, frowning. Bilbo was sure he was supposed to pick up on some meaning in his frown, Gandalf had a way of communicating in frowns that rivalled Thorin, but he couldn’t detect anything other than his distaste for dwarves questioning him. 

It started raining just as Gandalf turned around and took off quickly, his grey form disappearing from their sight. The others, still talking amongst themselves which consisted of questioning the wizard’s actions, turned towards the forest. The talking went silent when Thorin turned around, who had his hands crossed and leaning forward on his sword, the blade digging softly into the mud below them. 

“Now that that wizard has left us, we are on our own. Again. Do not leave the path. Keep a steady mind, and keep each other in sight. And most importantly, follow my command.” Thorin took out his sword from the mud and sheathed it, nodding at Dwalin who departed from his side. “Form one line. We will go through this forest one by one.”

Thorin went ahead, Balin following him. Behind Balin stood Dori who looked ready to murder anything that came across his path. Ori stood behind Dori, which was the probable reason for the look on the elder dwarf’s face. Following Ori was Nori, an unspoken agreement between Dori and Nori to keep Ori between them and protect him with their lives. Behind Nori, was Bifur who had his hand behind him, a connection to Bofur who was behind him. Bombur was behind the two, a thick wall of protection for the other two should they need it. Following the trio were Gloin and Oin, with Gloin swinging his axe who shared the look on Dori’s face. Oin simply looked tired and resigned, patting his brother’s back from behind. Finally, Bilbo was stood in line by Fili and behind him, Kili. 

“So we can protect you, of course.” Fili said, with a bright smile. 

“And what makes you think I need your protection?” Bilbo raised an eyebrow, touched and offended at the same time. He, after all, had done very well for himself in this forest. 

“Nothing, Bilbo. Just a precaution.” Fili held up his hands, but his smile never wavered. 

Behind the young brothers was Dwalin, who, Bilbo can imagine, was most likely tasked with protecting the young princes as well as the Company as he had been for the entire journey. 

In this formation, they started their journey through Mirkwood. 

#

The days spent in Mirkwood were ones that Bilbo did not remember fondly. For one, he could barely remember them clearly. Memories muddled together. The spiders, the elves, the barrels. The memories cleared up once they had been taken captive by Thranduil, but the days they spent following the path all blurred together as if it had been all experienced in a simple day. Sneaking around Thranduil’s dungeons were more clear though not clear enough for Bilbo to remember clearly. 

It was a similar feeling this time around, though Bilbo had prepared. 

It had been two days since they entered the forest. They were still on the path, still in the same formation as when they had entered. During the day, they walked on in terse silence filled with tension. At night, they rested in a circle with four watchmen, though even then they all sat in silence, wary of the creatures around them. At this rate, they would go through the forest very smoothly. 

They arrived at the broken bridge finally, though Bilbo knew logically it had been a much faster journey this time around, emotionally it felt like they had been inside the forest for two months rather than two days. 

“How are we supposed to cross this?” Kili asked as the dwarves crowded themselves on the edge of the bridge. It was the first time anyone spoke in two days, and the neglect of voice was easily heard by Kili’s scratchy voice. 

The water was unnaturally still, with branches and algae were covering the river. The last time they had been here, they had been thirsty and hungry. This time around, they still had plenty of water and food left, thanks to Beorn.

“There.” Bilbo pointed to where he already knew would be- “A boat.” Down the river was a small dinghy, tied loosely to the other side of the river. 

“How are we supposed to get that? It’s on the other side of the river?” Dori asked aloud, voicing everyone’s thoughts. The dwarves were still too shaken by this forest to all speak at once. 

Bilbo, rather than let the dwarves figure this out naturally and by themselves, in an effort to save them all time, decided for them, “Fili can use his hook to secure the boat and drag it over to this side. We can go over in pairs of four.” He explained, pointing first at Fili’s hook on his belt, then to the boat across the river. 

They all looked to Thorin, waiting for his approval. Bilbo only took a small amount of offense at this. 

“Why are you looking at me? Do as he says.” Thorin finally said, walking over to Bilbo, standing by his side. Almost instantly, Fili tied his rope to his hook and started his efforts in landing the hook on the boat, the others watching intently. 

But Bilbo couldn’t look away from Thorin, who was also watching his nephew hook the boat over. A cold chill went down his back.

_You could have it all, you know. You could be happy._

**Shut up.** Bilbo thought glumly. **You have no idea what you’re talking about.**

“Bilbo, you, Kili, Fili, and I will go first.” Thorin’s voice shook Bilbo out of his thoughts, as a hand appeared on his back to steady him. Bilbo looked up at Thorin, placing his hands against his chest on instinct. 

_You could have him, too._

The Ring was treacherous. Bilbo needed to remind himself of this. But it was so difficult to think all of a sudden with Thorin’s arms around him and the thickness of the air on him. His head felt like it was underwater as Thorin pulled the Hobbit close against his chest, hands digging into his back. 

“Hold on tightly to me, and I will make sure you will get to the other side of the river safely.” Thorin whispered. Bilbo nodded dumbly, his heart stuttering as his brain caught up with his body. Fili had succeeded in hooking the boat correctly, tugging it over with the help of Kili and Dwalin, freeing it from its place and hoisting it onto the land. 

Thorin guided Bilbo into the boat, hands never leaving him. 

“I will toss another hook onto that tree on the shore.” Fili said, as if answering a question. Bilbo should have been paying attention, but all he could focus on were Thorin’s hands on him. He was still cuddled up in his arms, and it felt right. It felt right, and it felt comforting, and in this forest, it was the comfort Bilbo needed. 

Fili and Kili got in as well, sat opposite from them with grim faces but as soon as they spotted how Thorin and Bilbo were sat, huge grins bloomed on their faces, making them look infinitely younger. 

No words were spoken though as Fili tied another rope to a new hook, throwing it at the other side of the shore, and, together with Kili, ensured their way across the river. Bilbo leant into Thorin’s touch, resting his head on the dwarf’s shoulder. In response, Thorin’s hands tightened on him. 

A cold chill went down his spine again, causing Bilbo to shiver. 

_Don’t you want this? You can have this, Bilbo Baggins, if you-_

“Are you cold, Âzyungel?” Thorin crowded his face, leaning in deeply and rubbing his hands over Bilbo’s back. One hand cupped Bilbo’s face and Bilbo shivered at the touch, though not because he was cold. 

“I’m-I’m fine. What- what did you call me?” Bilbo collected his thoughts, focusing on the blue of Thorin’s eyes. 

Thorin did not answer but he did give him a small smile. He helped the Hobbit stand up after Kili and Fili pulled the boat on land with the rope, looking back at the Uncle with smirks and their arms crossed over their chests. Thorin took a hold of Bilbo, curling his hands around his hips and lifted him out of the boat. 

“Th-thank you-” Bilbo stuttered, red in his face. Whatever this emotion was, it was grounding Bilbo very suddenly. His head had been floating high with the illusions of this forest, but whenever Thorin had put his hands on him, Bilbo felt tethered to reality all of a sudden. 

Thorin nodded at him and then let go of him, turning back to the others. “Next group! Dori, Nori, Bofur, and Bifur!”

Dori grabbed the hook that Fili had left behind and threw it, securing the boat and tugged it back over to their side. While Thorin was watching the other dwarves climb into the boat, Fili, Kili, and Bilbo took a few steps back to clear the area for the others. 

The two young princes took this opportunity to crowd the Hobbit, smirking mischievously. While it seemed that Thorin had grounded Bilbo, he also seemed to have a grounding effect on his nephews, knocking them back to reality- the reality of teasing Bilbo and Thorin. 

“Bilbo!” Kili sang quietly, stroking Bilbo’s short braid. “I think someone has become quite _smitten_ with our Uncle!” He leant his head on the shorter Hobbit’s shoulder, squeezing him slightly. Fili grinned, crossing his arms over his chest to imitate Thorin. 

“Are we too young for you, after all? We can be frowning all the time, too.” The younger brother whined comically, tugging on Bilbo’s braid gently. 

Bilbo struggled to throw him off, Kili being much heavier and stronger than him. “It’s not the frown. And I’m not _smitten_ with your Uncle-” He protested, pouting when Fili interrupted him, shoving a finger in his face and touching - _booping_ \- his nose. 

“I think you love him.” Fili said. With that, Bilbo went silent, his blush growing past his cheeks and taking up his entire face. Kili stopped playing with Bilbo’s braid and pushed himself off of the Hobbit, standing next to Fili and raising his eyebrows. 

“You do, don’t you?” Kili said quietly. The next group arrived and Thorin helped them out of the boat, shouting for the next group to ready themselves. Fili and Kili turned around and stood next to Bilbo, watching their uncle. Bilbo remained silent, lest his tongue betray him. 

“I thought so, but I wasn’t sure. I thought, maybe a crush? Maybe infatuation? He has that effect on people. God help me, how many dwarrowdames had thrown themselves at him once he glanced at them. We thought, ‘another hopeless crush’.” Fili leant in to whisper into Bilbo’s ear, his lips brushing his ear. Bilbo jumped at the contact, as Kili caught him and turned him around, suddenly gazing at Bilbo with very serious eyes. 

“If you are serious about his heart, we must know, Bilbo. We must know you will stay with him, and that you won’t break his heart.” He said, hands gripping Bilbo’s shoulders. 

They had put him in an impossible position. What could Bilbo say? He could not give Thorin either of those promises, could not give his word to his nephews that he would do either. There would come a time where he would need to break his heart- and his own heart would break- as the dragon sickness would prevent Thorin from seeing sense. There would also come a time where Bilbo must leave him. Even if Bilbo manages to save Thorin this time around, which there was no promise of, he could never stay in Erebor. He had a duty to Frodo, he knew this, he could not indulge his deepest wish to stay with Thorin in Erebor. Even then, should he be so selfish ( _‘If you would indulge yourself and use me, you could stay with him.’_ **Stop it.** ), he could never be with Thorin the way he wants to- he is but a Hobbit and a foreigner and nowhere near the rank needed to marry a King. 

The longer Bilbo remained silent, the tighter Kili’s grip became. Kili searched for something in Bilbo’s eyes, frowning desperately now. “Bilbo?”

“Kili, let Bilbo go.” Thorin appeared next to them, gripping Kili and yanking him roughly backwards. The last group of Bombur and Dwalin were now crossing the river, and Bilbo was brought back to reality, his memories now coinciding with reality.

“Watch out-” Bilbo shouted, pointing to where a herd of Deer came running through the trees. While everything had happened so quickly last time, time seemed to slow down ever so slightly yet very suddenly as Bilbo reached out with his hands towards Dwalin and Bombur. 

A soft glow emitted suddenly from his hands and he knew Yavanna hadn’t left him still. Thorin was reaching for Kili’s bow and an arrow, but Bilbo grabbed Thorin’s arms and pulled them closer to him. The last time, Thorin had tried to shoot a deer for food, as they had been starving at this point, but this had only succeeded in Bombur being shoved off the boat and into the enchanted water. Bombur had fallen asleep for days and they had to carry him. It seemed to him, this event was the first one that preceded each event which would derail them from both the path and the quest. 

The herd of deer passed, jumping over the river and disappeared without stopping to observe the dwarves.

“Bilbo?” Thorin asked suddenly as time seemed to resume again. He was standing in front of Thorin, clutching both of his hands with his own. 

“Oh- I’m so sorry- I-” Bilbo stuttered, letting go of Thorin’s hands and stepping back, scratching the back of his neck nervously. This time, Dwalin and Bombur made it to shore safely. Though, at the cost of Bombur’s safety, he now had the glaring eyes of Kili and Fili on him, the blush on Thorin’s cheeks to deal with, as well as the rest of the Company seemingly _very_ aware of Bilbo’s hands on their leader. 

This moment seemed to stretch on forever. 

“We move on. Resume formation!” Thorin suddenly shouted, causing Bilbo to jump. The dwarves shuffled back into formation, silent as ever. “The path continues. And so do we.” Thorin found the path again and started walking. 

Bilbo could feel the eyes of Fili, Kili, and Dwalin on him. He just hoped he would manage to answer Kili and Fili without breaking their hearts, and still evade their promises. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Âzyungel- love of loves


	5. Bilbo Greenthumb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I would be very surprised, too, King Thranduil of Greenwood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoooo okay wow. twice in a week might be a bit much!
> 
> maybe once a week ahah. im so sorry i didnt update on saturday :( this was a chunker of a chapter and i fear mirkwood will be a trilogy of chapters!!!
> 
> i reaaally hope you enjoy my take on this chapter <3 <3 3<3

The forest worked quickly to reapply its layer of illusion, ensuring its intimidation onto the dwarves. Staying on the path was a struggle the deeper they went, everyone was tempted to leave it, once they saw something in the darkness. 

Silence resumed in the Company, only whispers at night filled the void. Bilbo still had not answered Fili and Kili’s plea of promise to their Uncle, and he knew the longer he waited, the more suspicious they would get. 

It had been only a day since they crossed the bridge, but it felt like they had been travelling for much longer. They did not dare to light a fire once they camped for the night, afraid of what would be drawn to the flame. Tomorrow, Bilbo would suggest climbing a tree to spot where they were and how much longer they would need to travel. The spiders would come and grab them, as well as the elves. He was sure he could not avoid either of these events from happening but hopefully the foreknowledge would help him in fighting both. 

It was this night, however, that Bilbo decided to join Fili ‘s and Kili’s sleeping bag. 

Usually there would have been a quip about the Hobbit joining them for the night, as Bilbo usually slept near the Ri brothers. This time, there were only silent stares and narrowed eyes. Bilbo held up his sleeping bag, raising his eyebrows. The brothers nodded simply, watching the Hobbit lay out his sleeping bag at the foot of theirs. 

Once Bilbo settled in, unwilling to take off his sword-belt nor his clothing, he turned to both of them, pressing his lips nervously together. 

Finally, he whispered, “I cannot promise you that I will never leave Thorin. And I cannot promise that I won’t break his heart. I can promise you that I never want to do either of those things, and that if I could, I wouldn’t. That’s the best I can do. But I-” His voice broke off. He hated the looks on their faces, crumbling any hope. It didn’t sound like much, Bilbo knew this, but he couldn’t promise anything. He shouldn’t. He looked down, unable to look at them one second longer. He stayed quiet for a few more moments, thinking about what this meant. He could hear the dwarves shuffle around, setting up their own sleeping bags. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Thorin whisper with Dwalin, setting up the watchmen for the night. 

Thorin was so different than he remembered, they were so much closer this time. He saw so much more of Thorin, he felt so much more. He thought he had been in love last time, the few stolen moments they had together, but he had been wrong. It had been nothing compared to how he was feeling now. It made it all the more difficult to talk about this with his nephews, when it wouldn’t make any sense to them. 

It barely made any sense to him. 

He wiped away the tears on his face, sniffling softly. He felt pathetic. 

“The future is so uncertain, that I can’t promise anything, really. I would wish that things were simpler, that things were easier. If we make it to the mountain, if we secure the mountain, if we-” _make it through the Battle of Five Armies_ , “I love your Uncle so much more than I thought I would.” He whispered. 

It was clear that Fili and Kili did not expect Bilbo to start crying about his love for Thorin, but the two did not say anything against him. They moved from their sleeping bags to his, sitting down next to him and putting their arms around him. 

_You don’t have to do this, Bilbo. You don’t have to say goodbye to your future before it’s even started yet._

The Ring whispered, showing him flashes of what his life could be. If he could have Thorin, not only alive but as his, with Kili and Fili surrounding him. He was cradling Frodo, sitting atop Erebor with flowers surrounding him. 

**But that’s not right. Frodo was only mine through tragedy. And he would suffer more through you. It has to be this way.**

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to start crying. I cannot tell you why, but I will not be able to stay after we finish this Quest.” Bilbo finally whispered, and immediately missed the contact when Fili and Kili pulled back to look at him with confused eyes. 

“Why? Why can’t you stay? We’ve seen how Thorin is with you- he’s possibly mad with love for you!” Kili whispered furiously, frowning and clenching his hands into fists. 

“Bilbo, you haven’t even talked to Thorin about any of this, don’t you think you’re deciding things way too early?” Fili whispered, the more calmer one from both of them. 

“I am. I’m just warning you that the future might not be the one you want. But I’ll work hard to make sure that the future will be one we all want.” Bilbo placed his hands on both of their cheeks, looking from one dwarf to the other. 

Kili frowned but said nothing else. Fili nodded. Bilbo let go of both of them just as Thorin walked over to them, smiling softly. 

“I see the Burglar decided to join the Durin pile.” He whispered as he knelt in front of them. 

Bilbo nodded, wiping away the last tears on his cheeks. “It seemed appropriate.” He whispered back. 

Thorin frowned, reaching forward to take Bilbo’s face in both of his hands suddenly. “Why are you crying, Bilbo?” He whispered, leaning in close. The forest must have made Thorin’s head feel woozy as well because Bilbo never would have thought this day would come, where Thorin was so carefree with his affections. The last journey had been so strenuous, so tense, so terse. 

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll be okay.” Bilbo whispered and Thorin nodded. 

“Perhaps it is time for me to rebraid your hair.” Thorin let go of Bilbo’s face and sat back. “It’s looking very messy.” 

“Oh Uncle, you really should-” Fili shook his head with a frown, aimed at Thorin but Thorin silenced him with a look. 

Bilbo missed this interaction, reaching back to feel his hair. The braid was barely visible, his hair falling out mostly. He nodded, “Perhaps. It was quite a nice braid you did.” He turned around so his back was turned to Thorin and he faced the rest of the Company. 

Suddenly, it felt like the entire Company was watching, interested in watching Thorin braid Bilbo’s hair. 

Kili nodded, his frown wiped off his face. “Oh, Uncle, it was such a nice braid. A very special braid.” 

“Was it?” Bilbo asked, curiously. He knew braiding and braids themselves held various meanings for dwarves, but Bilbo had thought nothing of the actual braid Thorin had put in his hair. He wasn’t even sure what he had tied Bilbo’s hair with. Had it been one of Thorin’s beads? What did that mean?

_You really don’t know what that means?_

It wasn’t often the Ring would snark at him, but in this case, Bilbo was too surprised to answer. He knew the other dwarves were watching and based off of Dwalin’s expression, Bilbo should treasure the fact that Thorin was braiding his hair again. 

He also knew something was up with the way several of the dwarves were smirking and winking at him. While he could guess it had something to do with Thorin braiding his hair and the braid itself, Bilbo didn’t want to think about it too much. It seemed to lift the spirit of the Company, which was good enough. But he didn’t want them too involved in what was between him and Thorin. Of course, Thorin wasn’t making this easy. 

Thorin let his hands drop to Bilbo’s neck after finishing the braid and tying his hair together. “There you go. You look presentable, again.” The leader whispered, brushing his fingers across Bilbo’s neck. 

Bilbo couldn’t even be grateful for the darkness in the night as he knew the dwarves had eyes for the dark. They would see his blush, as Thorin had seen his tears. 

“Thank you, Thorin.” Bilbo simply whispered and turned around again, giving Thorin a soft smile. He ignored the accusing eyes of Fili which spelled out one word which Bilbo knew he was: _Coward_. 

#

They should have been more suspicious of the quiet. It was not a regular quiet, the way forests at night could be. The occasional hoot of an owl, perhaps some skittering in the bushes. Quiet, but not silent. 

This quiet held a silence of the dead. It was only by chance that Bilbo saw them. His dreams filled with the corpses of Thorin, Fili, and Kili, he lay awake, staring up into the forest. He couldn’t shout anything before it happened; a ginormous spider was dangling from above Dwalin, who had his eyes focused on the forest in front of him. In less than a second, the spider paralysed Dwalin and picked him back up again, retreating into the forest. Another spider was hanging above Thorin, who was keeping watch with his back turned to the rest of them. The spider paralysed Thorin at the same time in which Dwalin was paralysed, and lifted up. 

“N-” Bilbo was about to shout, when the rest of them came. The spiders came from every direction, methodically paralysing the dwarves from the outer ring into the inside. Bilbo was the only one awake, and the only thing he could do was put the Ring on and disappear into thin air. 

_“Kill them! Bring them up, eat them now while their blood is hot and running!”_

Around him, his friends were wrapped up in spider’s silk and dragged by monstrous spiders. Bilbo stood up slowly, drawing his sword. Last time, he had been stung by one of them and woke up by chance, managing to kill one. 

His heart was beating incredibly fast, and he could do nothing but stand and watch as his friends were carried back up into the crowns of the trees. It had been too soon for the spiders, too early. Something was wrong, something wasn’t right. 

_Ah, but now, you have to use me to save your friends. Come on, Bilbo, indulge yourself._

Bilbo had to. He needed to act, he needed to move. Clutching his sword with his right hand, he realized that climbing the trees would be vastly more difficult than it had been last time. He had little control over his left hand and he dared not to let go of his sword. 

He took a step forward, the voices of the spiders disappearing into the thickets, and with that step, it was like a dam broke. He ran as quick as he could to the nearest tree, leaving behind their supplies, with only one thing in his mind. 

As soon as he touched the bark of the tree, a soft, green glow emitted from the palm of his hands. While Yavanna seemed unwilling to fill him with her light while he had the Ring on his finger, he did not abandon him yet. The bark seemed to melt at his touch and pull him into the inside of the tree. He went willingly. 

The green glow surrounded him completely and he felt his body pulled upwards, and a second later, he was pushed out of the tree roughly and pushed onto the thick branches in front of him. And, in front of him, was the nest of the spiders. 

It looked horrific. It was just like he remembered. The silk was everywhere he could see, there were hardly any spots he could step without alerting the spiders of his location. But then, he saw all of his friends hung up, feet up, and then he heard the spiders, themselves. 

_“Their hide is tough, but there’s good juice inside!”_

Just then, one of the dwarves started wriggling, panicking as he woke up. 

_“Stick it! Stick it again!”_

Bilbo could not identify which body was whose, but he knew he had to act fast. Taking slow steps, he counted how many spiders there were. He also knew there must be more. 

One spider made its way past Bilbo and, as if controlled by a force greater than himself, he aimed for its eyes and dug his sword into its head, digging past into its body. Quickly, he pulled his sword back out and watched as it toppled back and landed on the ground with its legs pointing upwards. 

He would not have much time to free his friends and kill all of the spiders, but he could try. As the other spiders heard the _thunk_ of their fellow spider hitting the floor, Bilbo picked up a smaller branch and threw it as far as he could. 

_“What is it?”_

_“Eat it alive!”_

_“Go! Move!”_

The mass of spiders moved quickly, leaving their nest to find the origin of the movement, feeling the vibrations through the silk. One spider, however, did not leave the wriggling dwarf. 

_“Just a taste!”_

Its hideous voice cackled to itself and Bilbo took slow steps to position himself in front of it, reaching out and stabbing its thick body. A dark liquid poured out over his hands, and he had to bite his tongue to not scream or vomit. He wasn’t sure which one he’d rather do. 

  
The spider screamed though and stumbled backwards. _“What is that? What is that?!”_ It cried and Bilbo stepped forward to stab its head, slashing as he went. He had closed his eyes on instinct, and so did not witness himself killing this foul beast, only feeling it fall off the tip of his blade and the _thunk_ of its body landing on the forest floor. 

Panic coursed through Bilbo’s blood, fearing that the noise and movement would attract the other spiders back. Quickly, he moved to cut down the other dwarves. Just as he cut down the last dwarf, hearing them land on the floor gently, but not stirring yet, the other spiders returned. 

Moving his feet backwards, he resumed a fighting stance and moved his body as quickly as he could, slicing the spiders as they were crying for their food all around him. He knew they sensed him, his movement and breathing were not masked by the ring but they could not see him- and they were confused. 

In this confusion, Bilbo soared. He was feeling scared and panicked, but the more spiders he was killing, the more he gained on courage. There was an inkling of an idea in the back of his mind to take the ring off and embrace the powers of Yavanna- regain the power of his left hand as well as the light of the Gods. 

But the all too familiar greed for the Ring was much more present in his mind, as he was stabbing and slicing alongside one monstrous spider, it was all he could think about. 

_Together, Bilbo, together, we are unstoppable. We’ve already killed so many spiders, we can kill them all!_

The cries and chittering of the spiders were easy to tune out in this state, the rush of the air too loud in his ears to recognise anything else. Spider after Spider fell to the floor, landing on top of the other dwarves who were still not moving. 

_“The food, the food is getting buried!”_

_  
_ _“We need to find the intruder!”_ _  
  
_

_“Murder! Murder!”_

The cries were echoing all around him, there must have been around five or six spiders laying on the ground beneath him. 

**Enough**.

A powerful, melodic voice rang out, as strong as the trees and as high as the wind. 

**Take the Ring off, Bilbo**. 

Bilbo paused in the wrong moment, realizing he was the only one to hear this voice. 

_“There he is!”_ the first voice called and found him as he stumbled onto the web of the Spider’s nest, alerting everyone to his location with the vibrations of his movement. 

_We can take them, Bilbo. Together. WE can do this._

Bilbo shivered as the cold voice surrounded him and filled him up. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t move. He was surrounded by the spiders, their eyes crowding his vision, their bodies taking up the entire web around him. There was nothing else left, Bilbo was forced to choose. 

He was forced to remember. 

Bilbo Baggins had lost his heart once before to the Ring. He had spent his entire life hoarding it, stroking it as it would be a part of his own body, an extension of himself, and growled at anyone who asked any questions. It had taken way too long for him to be pulled out his stupor, Gandalf bringing him back to the light. 

Not this time. This time, Bilbo paused, taking a deep breath and sliding the Ring off, pocketing it back in his coat. The Spiders screamed when he became visible but within the first second that the Ring had left his skin, his entire body glowed with a light green colour, blinding the Spiders and causing them to stumble backward and all around, some even falling off. 

**“Far too long has an evil plagued this forest. Now, the Greenwood must return. Be gone, Mirkwood, and never return.”** It wasn’t his voice that spoke, though Bilbo could feel himself talking. He could even hear his own voice, mixed in with the strong, powerful voice of Yavanna herself. The light of his body blinded even himself, though now it was reduced to just his eyes. He could not see anything, simply felt Yavanna guide his body as the trees started shaking, as well as the ground. 

_“Flee! Flee!”_

Yavanna cut down each spider ruthlessly, returning the warmth to the forest as well as clearing the heavy illusion that was in the air. But she did all this, using Bilbo. 

**The last time, I had abandoned this forest. I shall no longer turn a blind eye to what evil has done to the nature I created.** Yavanna spoke to Bilbo in his mind, as Bilbo ran with incredible speed and poise, slicing deliberately and stabbing. 

Bilbo was speechless, saying simply nothing but letting Yavanna guide him until the spiders were no more. 

When there were no Spiders left, Yavanna walked back to the spider’s nest, pocketing _Sting_ in Bilbo’s belt and kneeling onto the tree. 

**“Forgive me. I have not abandoned you, yet.”** Bilbo and Yavanna spoke as one, and as Bilbo stretched his hands out over the bark of the trees, Bilbo could hear rustling and snapping. With the same stroke, suddenly the air felt so much lighter all around him. Yavanna filled him with warmth one last time, before departing from his body. Bilbo regained his sight at once, watching her leave his body. He reached out for her and their fingers met. She was floating above him, wearing flowing robes. All of her was bathed in light, a soft white with edges of green. 

**You are my creation, too, Bilbo. I will protect you as if I am you. As if we are one. The Hobbits of the Shire will not be abandoned.** She spoke, and disappeared into thin air, though the light glow was all around. 

Brought down to reality, Bilbo was panting, exhausted. His arms ached, as well as his feet. But he could see now, there were no spiders on the trees, they all lay dead on the forest ground. The Spider’s nest had been disbanded, instead the trees regained their bright green colour, turning into orange as the season passed. It felt much more like home than it ever had. Gone was the spell of heavy confusion and disaster. Fresh air all around him, Bilbo felt like he could finally breathe. 

Delirious with sudden joy, he laughed and he couldn’t stop laughing until he cried. Until there were voices from below. 

He peered down as the dwarves were all shouting, wrestling to be freed from their silky prisons, groaning at the weight of the spider’s body which lay on top of them. 

Bilbo cursed, looking for a way down. He saw a couple of branches hanging below him, and starting his descent very carefully. He was very aware of the lack of feeling in his left hand, as well as the exhaustion in his body. 

It felt like hours until his feet met the forest ground, but he was sure it only took a few minutes. The air below the trees was still as crisp as it had been when he was at the top. 

“What the bloody hell is this spider doing on top of us?!” Dwalin was growling, pushing it off with all his might. 

Bilbo snuck around the edge of the dwarves laying and kicked the spider off, with the combined effort of all of the dwarves pushing it. Bilbo had no idea how he was going to explain what just happened, or why he was not wrapped up in the silk of the spiders. Or how every single spider was laying dead all around them. 

He did not plan for this, if he was honest. He did not think Yavanna would intervene the way she did. Instead of saying anything, he opted to help Ori out and get the webs off of him. 

“Bilbo! You’re alright! Thank god!” Ori smiled and hugged the Hobbit close, too relieved to ask any question. 

“I was so worried, Ori.” Bilbo simply said, hugging him back. “Let’s help the others. Maybe our Camp is still where-” He started speaking when his heart dropped to the floor. They had left the path. Bilbo didn’t even know where the camp was. 

“Oh Mahal, Bilbo, you’re suddenly so pale. What’s the matter?” Ori breathed and sniffed the air, “Wow, it can’t be the spiders, but something smells really fresh.”

Bilbo couldn’t say anything, just opening his mouth several times as if he was going to speak and then closed it when he didn’t. 

“Where’s our hobbit?!” Thorin cried out and Ori turned around, hands on Bilbo’s shoulders as if he was presenting him to the Company. 

“Bilbo-” Thorin gasped and rushed over to him. He still had webs tangled in his hair and clothes but his only thought was on the Hobbit. Bilbo was pulled into his reach, curled up against his chest, but it did nothing to ease his tension. “You’re safe.” Thorin whispered. 

  
Kili and Fili came up behind him, peering over Thorin’s shoulders and smiled brightly. “Bilbo, you gave us a good scare there! Who killed all these spiders?” Kili asked, reaching over and putting his arms around Thorin and Bilbo. 

“We couldn’t see anything. I just barely woke up.” Fili groaned, putting his arms over Kili and the other two, “Bilbo, were you tied up as well? You don’t look as tangled as we did.”

Bilbo hid his face in Thorin’s chest, his hands curled in front of him in the thick material of Thorin’s coat. He mumbled something, knowing they wouldn’t be able to hear it. The last half hour had been such a rush of emotions, that now, that it was over, Bilbo felt incredibly faint and shaky. 

Thorin growled at his nephews, wriggling out of their hugs. “Don’t tease our burglar. Can’t you see he’s exhausted?” He said quietly, hands cupped around Bilbo’s head and back in a protective, almost possessive, way. “We all need to find our way back to the camp before more spiders appear.” He said, and rallied the dwarves who had freed themselves of the webs. 

“Oin, any injuries?” He called out, refusing to let go of Bilbo. It suited Bilbo’s needs very well. He felt like drifting in and out of consciousness, he could just simply lose it right now. 

Oin must have shaken his head, they must have all been miraculously fine, as Thorin started shouting again about needing to return to the camp, and most importantly, the path. Bilbo couldn’t hear anything else, the blood rushing around in his head was both the loudest thing he heard as well as making his head hurt. 

Thorin decided to pick Bilbo up, cradling his body close to his chest, and whispered to him. “Fear not, Bilbo. I will return you to your sleeping bag quickly.” 

Bilbo should have been worried about Thorin, who was not asking any questions, who was so caring about him, but he could not think clearly, instead just nodding slowly. 

#

“So, Bilbo. What happened?” 

Bilbo kept his eyes closed, ignoring the poking voice. He was tired, his hand was hurting, and he was still thanking Yavanna in his head for ensuring that no one got injured. They had miraculously ( _Yavanna_ ) found their way back to the path, with only some of their things rumpled as if deer had walked through. Most of their supplies were still there. Thorin had lain Bilbo down in his sleeping bag, wrapping him up in his coat. He had stayed with Bilbo for a short while, not leaving him alone, keeping his hands on him. 

But it didn’t last, as Thorin was torn from his side as he needed to talk with the others to talk about a plan. 

This only opened the invitation for Kili and Fili to bother him. 

“Bilbo- stop ignoring us! We know you’re awake.” Kili whispered, leaning down against his face and poking his cheek. 

Bilbo opened his eyes slightly, glaring at Kili. 

“Come on, the other dwarves are starting to ask questions too. Thorin, for some reason, isn’t. We’re just curious. Did you kill all of those spiders yourself?” Kili stared at him with wide eyes. 

“There must have been more than ten spiders. Think of that, a Hobbit killing all those spiders. Mahal wept.” Fili said quietly, staring at him. 

**He did.**

There was a giggle somewhere, far away in the wind and it was quickly gone. 

Bilbo simply rolled over, ignoring their questions and closed his eyes again. He did not have an answer for them which would not open for even more serious questions, which he could not really answer. 

Why did Yavanna choose him?

“Bilbo. You saved us. Yet again.” Fili climbed over Bilbo, cupping Bilbo’s face with both of his hands. “We will have your back if the others become suspicious again. I’m sorry we doubted you earlier.” 

The Hobbit looked up at the golden-haired dwarf and gave him a small smile. He sat up slowly, nudging the hands off of him but put his own hands on each dwarf’s shoulder. Both Fili and Kili were more than right to question him. Yet, they also trusted him. He remembered their sweetness, he remembered their humour, he remembered their familial bond. 

Just like with everything else on this journey, this had taken him by surprise. The depth of their trust in him was enough to make him start crying again. He had done much more on this journey than he had the last time, but it wasn’t all him. It was Yavanna, as well. 

“We might as well call you Uncle Bilbo. Did you see Thorin’s face when he carried you back? Might as well already have courted each other, he looked so worried about you.” Kili smiled, nudging closer. 

Bilbo shook his head, “I need to talk to Thorin, don’t I? I never thought I would have to have this conversation in Mir-” He stopped talking, looking around. Calling this forest Mirkwood was not accurate, not anymore at least. While Bilbo wasn’t sure if Yavanna had cured the entire forest or just this part of it, the trees were not dead and intimidating. There was light streaming through the treetops, the bark looking healthy and alive. There was green grass all around them, and the air was as fresh as a forest’s air should be. “Greenwood.”

Kili and Fili nodded, looking around. “Something happened. You wouldn’t know anything about this either? Bilbo Greenthumb?” Fili raised an eyebrow, smiling mischievously at him. 

“Oh, that’s good. Bilbo Greenthumb!” Kili agreed, pointing at Fili with a wide smile. 

  
Bilbo closed his eyes, letting his head fall backwards. He opened his eyes, looking up at the sky, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. ‘Thank you.’ he thought. 

_Bilbo, this won’t last. The darkness will return. And when it does, Yavanna won’t be there to save you. Only I will be able to save you._

Bilbo let himself fall backwards, gasping as the cold voice gripped his back, as if there were freezing fingers wrapped around his spine. 

“Bilbo?” Fili gasped, both of the dwarves reaching out to catch up and ease his fall back onto the sleeping bag. 

“I’m fine. We should get moving soon.” He sighed, looking up at their faces. They nodded and left to go tell Thorin. 

#

They set off an hour later, packing up their entire camp tightly and tying the bags to themselves. Bilbo gave Thorin his coat back, pushing it into Thorin’s hands. 

“Bilbo, please. You need it more than I do. You’ve been so cold recently.” Thorin had said, brushing the hair out of his face. He was, no doubt, already planning to braid Bilbo’s hair next time they camped. 

Bilbo shook his head, “No. It’s yours. I’ll-” He shrugged, brushing his hands over Thorin’s as he pulled away. “I’ll ask for it, if I need it again.” 

Thorin nodded and pulled his coat on again, smiling down at the Hobbit. Bilbo didn’t like to think of himself as easily charmed. But he always had a soft spot for Thorin. 

“Regain the formation! Let’s go!” Thorin shouted, and took the lead of the Company. The dwarves fell back in life, with Oin and Gloin in front of Bilbo and Fili and Kili behind Bilbo. 

The others had noticed the change as well, the mood much lighter than it had been before. Though Bilbo was loathe to admit that he noticed that they kept their distance to Bilbo. Was it something he said? Did they not trust him, again? Thorin showed no sign of distrust towards Bilbo. In fact, he was being very affectionate with him. 

**‘He’s been so sweet to me. Braiding my hair, putting his coat over me-’** Bilbo was deep in thought, following Gloin’s back when realization hit him. He stopped walking, causing Fili to bump into him, which caused Kili to bump into him, which caused Dwalin to growl and shout something in khuzdul. 

“Bilbo? What’s happening?” 

The Hobbit turned around, gripping Fili’s shoulders with narrowed eyes. “What does the braid mean, Fili?” He said very quietly. 

A smile split on Fili’s face, “You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?” 

Kili peered over his brother’s shoulder with an equally wide smile. “The braid, huh? That’s how he got you?”

“Is that why no one else will talk to me?” Bilbo asked, looking at Kili. 

Kili shrugged, “They were afraid they’d spill the secret. We told Uncle that he should be open with you, but he can be a bit non-verbal with his affection. I don’t know if you noticed.”

Gloin turned around, nudging Bilbo. “Are ye alright, Bilbo?” Said Hobbit turned around and pointed his finger at him, shaking his head. 

“You too, Gloin?” Bilbo sighed, smiling fondly at the red-headed dwarf who narrowed his eyes. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He knows!” Kili called out from behind Fili, giggling like a child. 

Gloin shrugged his shoulders, leaning down towards Bilbo. “You don’t ask me about the braid, I don’t ask you about the spiders.” He simply said, turned around and continued walking, taking long strides to catch up with his brother. 

Bilbo started walking, too, touching the braid in the nape of his neck. He wasn’t entirely sure what it exactly meant, but he could tell it had a clear ‘Hands off’ message to the other dwarf. It was possessive, and deceiving, and it was exactly what Bilbo needed to make up his mind. He needed to talk to Thorin.

“Now- what are thirteen dwarves and a halfling doing in my forest?” A sudden voice appeared at the side of Bilbo, a sword shining in front of him, ringing with the air. There were elves suddenly all around the Company, drawn with their bows and arrows, and their swords. 

Bilbo looked up into the face of Thranduil, who held his sword out, with narrowed, suspicious eyes. 

“Imagine my surprise, when I was ensuring the safety of my kingdom, when all of a sudden there was a blast of light in the middle of my forest. And not just any light-” Thranduil leant down, breathing into Bilbo’s face, “But a healing, green light.”

  
“GET OFF OF HIM!” Bilbo could hear Thorin shout angrily, cussing and screaming. 

Bilbo raised his eyebrows, trying to hide his panic and surprise. 

“I would be very surprised, too, King Thranduil of Greenwood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! Yavanna made an ethereal entrance- i drew what that looked liek in my head on my instagram @pallalalo


	6. Norossë

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The spiders that plague my kingdom daily and nightly were found dead. An incredible amount. Not only can I imagine was this a decent portion of their population, but the trees themselves have changed. I heard the reports from my scouts- a green light supposedly healed them. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Thorin Oakenshield?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohooo lets goooo okay this chapter is so much longer than i anticipated!!!! i hope you all enjoy <3 <3 
> 
> also: trigger warning for (minor?) panic attacks/ mentions of mental illness/ medication / feelings of drunkness and feeling high? (not sure how to tag this)

“Search them!” Thranduil Oropherion turned away from Bilbo Baggins, holding out his sword in front of him as he paced around Dwalin, Kili, and Fili. “Take their weapons. We must not let these dwarves pass through our Kingdom. Who knows what they bring with them?” He looked down at Dwalin with pure disgust and huffed slightly, making his way to the front, though not without sending another curious glance at Bilbo. 

There was a litany of curses and shouts to be heard, both in Common and Khuzdul. Gloin, in front of Bilbo, had the most colourful speech of curses that Bilbo had ever heard and it even left the elf who had confiscated his axes, blushing. 

Bilbo shouldn’t have been surprised to see Tauriel next to him, who was about to confiscate all of Kili’s weapons when Bilbo, sentimental old soul, grinned brightly up at her. She looked just like he remembered, a firm, stern face with a bright twinkle in her eyes that betrayed her adventurous desire and good heart. While Bilbo knew that Thranduil would take an extreme amount of effort to deal with, Tauriel had always been different to the king. She shared Bilbo’s love for adventure, and it would not take much to coax her out of her shell. 

“Stop smiling like you know me.” Tauriel suddenly barked, narrowing her eyes at Bilbo, holding her hand out. 

Bilbo raised his eyebrows, holding his hands up, but he really couldn’t help smiling. Maybe he was feeling a little delirious, but he couldn’t help his nature. She had become a good friend in his last life, Bilbo had no doubt that she would become a good one in this one, too. She nodded at _Sting_ and he took the sword out of its sheath and gave it to her as well. 

But there was something else that had happened last time, that Bilbo had no doubt would happen again. 

“And you- what do you have to smile about?” Tauriel hissed as she confiscated Kili’s bow and quiver full of arrows, though she spoke with a rough voice, her eyes betrayed her. This must have been a quite welcome distraction for her; a nice deviation from her routine. 

Kili shrugged, holding his hands up the same way Bilbo had. 

“‘Tis it a crime in this kingdom to appreciate the beauty it beholds?” Kili asked, voice quiet enough that Bilbo almost missed it. 

Tauriel did not reply, patting Kili’s sides down and taking his dagger from his belt. She stood back up, an unimpressed look on her face as she handed his dagger to the elf behind her, though she kept a hold on his bow and quiver herself. She spoke in a quick and hushed tongue to her fellow elves. 

While Bilbo had become near fluent in Sindarin in his last life, and he thought he retained this skill in this life, Tauriel spoke too quickly and too quietly for him to be able to hear what she said. 

Though he did hear one elf say to another, _“Is this the Hobbit that half-elf Síledir spoke about?”_

#

There had been no time for Bilbo to slip away under the guise of the ring, the watchful eyes of Tauriel and the other elves on him constantly on him. Thorin, though, too had a watchful eye on him at times, turning around ever so often to glance back at him, Kili, and Fili. 

Bilbo’s only hope was that it would be the same as it had been with the other elves- as Galadriel and Elrond had seen Yavanna’s light in him, he hoped Thranduil would do, though Bilbo knew that the Elvenking was not as trusting as the others were. 

Legolas greeted his father at the gate, peering curiously over Thranduil’s shoulder to look at the dwarves. 

Bilbo caught his eye, and it seemed Legolas’ curiosity peaked. 

**This is interesting.** Bilbo thought, watching as Thranduil barked something at his son and walked briefly past him, and the Company was moving again, all walking past Legolas who seemed utterly enthralled at the dwarves. 

Tauriel raised an eyebrow at him, speaking again though it was too swift again. Bilbo thought he might have heard the words _‘look’_ and _‘dangerous’_ but Legolas just waved her off. 

Bilbo was honestly too shell-shocked to properly realize what all of this had meant- not only were they captured by Thranduil himself, but Bilbo himself had been captured too. As they crossed through the gate of the palace, a very real panic set in, his heart beating erratically and his left hand aching incredibly. His head, too, ached and he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. It was too much, Bilbo suddenly felt ice cold, plunged into a reality that felt too similar to a lake in the winter than it did walking through the autumn air of Greenwood. 

**There won’t be any bargaining to be had with Thranduil- we will- will be stuck here- forever-** Bilbo couldn’t think clearly anymore, the weight of the entire world crushing him down on his shoulders and he fell to his knees suddenly, gasping for air. 

“Bilbo? Bilbo-” Kili shouted, reaching forward to grab Bilbo but Tauriel held Kili back. Another elf moved forward to grab Bilbo instead, pulling him back up on his shaky knees, too shaky to stand on his own. 

“Leave Bilbo alone-”

“Don’t touch him!” 

The entire Company had turned around to cry out for Bilbo, Thorin’s voice ringing out clearly. 

“What have you done with him? If you poisoned him, hurt him, I will make sure there will be no elf in this entire kingdom left by the time I’m done!!” 

Bilbo looked up weakly, into the face of the elf who had helped him up. He tried to smile weakly, but his panic was just growing and growing. It was over, he failed the quest, Thorin would never bargain with Thranduil and Thranduil would never let Thorin go- 

Thought swirled erratically in Bilbo’s head, his eyes glazed and lost. 

The elf holding him spoke out clearly and swiftly, _“He is not poisoned, my King. It is nor_ _ossë- I can take him to Aglarhel.”_ While Bilbo understood him perfectly, he could not understand one word the elf had said- _nor_ _ossë._

Thranduil must have nodded or given him a reply because suddenly, Bilbo was carried off, away from the Company. He could hear their shouts of protests and fierce war-declarations, but there was nothing he could do. His heart constricted with each step the elf took away from them, and Bilbo looked over the elf’s shoulders, giving Thorin one last look before the elf turned a corner and he was out of his sight. 

Tears were sliding down Bilbo’s face slowly, curling up as much as he could. His face was red with shame and terror, his breaths coming in short and he was pretty sure he was trembling. 

The elf seemed just as awkward about it as Bilbo was, whispering softly in heavily accented common, “You’re okay, you’re okay-” but it did nothing to calm the heavy panic in Bilbo’s stomach. It just made it worse, the words seemingly taunting him and he felt sick. 

Before Bilbo knew it, they were in an entirely unknown part of the palace. While Bilbo had seen little of the kingdom last time, this was entirely different. The halls of Thranduil felt dark and rustic, the dungeons were cold and dangerous with one small misstep causing a deadly fall. The new atmosphere, light colours and a fresh sense of air, made Bilbo blink a couple of times. 

The elf put Bilbo down on something- a bed- and rushed off to find someone else. While Bilbo’s heart was still racing, and he felt like he would be sick very soon, he slowly stopped crying, his lungs feeling less like they were collapsing and more like they were functioning again, he took a look around. Unlike the rest of the kingdom, the walls were almost completely consisting of wide windows, high above the rest of the forest. Bilbo stood up, taking slow, incredibly shaky steps and stumbled over to the windows. He stumbled over his own feet and pressed against the window, the cool glass feeling incredibly nice against his heated face. His hands smeared across the glass and Bilbo spotted something in the not so distant distance- the Lonely Mountain. 

And with that, like a swift gust of wind, his breath both returned to him and he let himself slide to the floor. It was as if by seeing the end destination of their journey, the panic left Bilbo and he felt a weird surge of warmth, both unnatural and the most natural thing he has felt. 

**Almost there.** Bilbo thought, and at the sound of voices coming closer, he instinctively reached for the Ring and slipped it on. 

_We can fool these elves together_. 

_“Himdir, seriously? I was in the middle of something important. There’s no one here.”_ A female elf who must be Aglarhel glared at the elf- Himdir- who had brought Bilbo here. 

Himdir’s hands flew to his hand, messing up his perfect braids. 

_“Oh no. No- Aglarhel, I promise, I brought one of the prisoners here- a halfling- he was panicking-”_ Himdir started pacing up and down, slamming his hands down on the bed where Bilbo had been seconds ago. He was waving his hands around, grabbing at the air. 

Aglarhel started laughing, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles. _“I know I get little sleep, but I at least have a reason. Don’t bother me again, Himdir, I mean it. If no one’s dying, don’t come back here.”_

Bilbo would have felt bad for the elf, but he needed to focus on his quest. He needed to find Thorin, he needed to make sure they were all safe. He needed to make sure they could all escape. With slow, deliberate movements, Bilbo got back up. He kept to the walls, sliding past Himdir and Aglarhel and left what must have been the hospital wing. Once he exited the lofty room, he was confronted by winding roads, bridges crossing over and over, revealing the depth of the palace and how deep the elves had dug.

_“Where did you go? Where did you go?”_ Himdir was following Bilbo unintentionally, muttering to himself. Bilbo took this as a sign to follow Himdir instead, holding his breath and with silent steps, he followed the elf back to Thranduil’s halls. 

Elves were lined up along the walls, each armed and ready to move, staring straight across the hall. In the middle of the hall, near the throne on a lifted wooden platform were Thranduil and in front of him, forced to kneel was Thorin. 

“Some may imagine a noble quest is at hand.” Thranduil’s voice rang out, echoing in the halls. There were a ridiculous amount of pillars, breaking up the wide open space of the halls, and a long staircase to reach the throne. 

Himdir, breaking rank with the other elves, was pacing along the bottom of the staircase. He was visibly sweating, and another elf hissed at him to get back in line, moving to make space for him. Himdir hesitated but one look at Thranduil had him stepping backwards into the line immediately. 

Bilbo moved as silently as he could, climbing the steps carefully until he was in eyesight of both Thranduil and Thorin. 

“A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon.” Thranduil had his back turned on Thorin, but now he was moving around the platform. Bilbo did his best to mirror him, stepping around Thorin. 

“I myself suspect a more prosaic motive. Attempted burglary, or something of that ilk.” Thranduil paused in front of Thorin. His waist length, light blonde hair was, unlike last time Bilbo had met him here, swept backwards, cascading down his back. His robes were a much paler colour than Bilbo ever remembered him wearing- opposed to the deep green and brown the rest of the Sindarin elves of Mirkwood forest usually wear. 

“It’s the strangest thing.” Thranduil turned away from him again, hands behind his back. Bilbo knew that Thranduil was not thinking out loud- this was a calculated move for his subordinates as well as Thorin. “The spiders that plague my kingdom daily and nightly were found dead. An incredible amount. Not only can I imagine was this a decent portion of their population, but the trees themselves have changed. I heard the reports from my scouts- a green light supposedly healed them. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Thorin Oakenshield?”

Thorin clenched his jaw, his hands shaking as his hands were curled in tightly to form two trembling fists. “You had scouts watching, as spiders took travellers from the road? And they did nothing as they were about to eat all of my Company whole? I was under the impression that the Elves of Greenwood protected travellers crossing over the forest, walking on the main path. I must be mistaken that Thranduil would ever take such care to what lies outside his palace.” He spoke with a steady voice, picking his words carefully. It was more diplomatic than anything Bilbo had seen Thorin say towards Thranduil. 

“And then, you decide to take us when we were just travelling along, and then you separate a key member of the Company and claim he wasn’t poisoned. I saw the way he was shaking. You won’t even let me see him, as you are so concerned with interrogating me- what was my crime? Walking?!” Thorin got more and more angry, but he kept his voice steady as he glared at Thranduil. 

Thranduil must also have been surprised to see Thorin in this way, raising both of his thick eyebrows at the dwarf-king in front of him. 

“He suffered from a different kind of poison.” Thranduil shrugged, “And you are not just any traveller. I find it incredibly peculiar that you would claim to be. You seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule; the King’s Jewel. The Arkenstone.” 

Bilbo glared at Thranduil for even speaking the name, an uncontrollable rage suddenly filling him with every single memory of the Arkenstone. The only thing Bilbo hated more was the look on Thorin’s face when Thranduil mentioned it. Bilbo knew this was why; Thranduil was baiting him. 

And Bilbo knew all too well that Thorin would not resist. Not when it came to the Arkenstone. It had been too late the last time when Thorin had awakened from his haze. Was it here where it started? Bilbo had not been present at this interrogation the last time, unsure now of what had triggered Thorin’s gold sickness. 

“It is precious to you beyond measure.” Thranduil continued, walking towards his throne with renewed purpose. He turned around, with a lazy smile. “I understand that.”

Thorin looked entirely captivated by the mere thought of the Arkenstone, trying not to betray his thoughts. Bilbo walked back to Thorin quietly, kneeling next to him. He knew he couldn’t comfort Thorin in any way, lest Thranduil realize he escaped. 

“There are gems in that mountain that I, too, desire. White gems of pure starlight. I offer you my help.” Thranduil leant his head to the side and slid down on his throne, crossing his legs. 

Thorin took a deep breath but halfway in, he let out the smallest gasp and his hands, which had been clenched in the tightest fists Bilbo had seen in a while, let go, resting now at his sides. Could Thorin smell Bilbo next to him? Did he know he was there?

“I am listening.” Thorin said, a small smile on his face. 

“I will let you go.” Thranduil agreed, “If you return what is mine. A favour for a favour. You have my word. From one king to another.”

Thorin slowly stood up, staring straight into Thranduil’s eyes. Bilbo could tell Thorin was in inner turmoil, his eyes glaring fiercely full of righteous anger and revenge. But he also knew he needed Thranduil’s help. 

Bilbo stayed on his knees, sliding his hand gently into Thorin’s hand, hoping that his touch would keep him calm. Thorin did not move his hand to curl around Bilbo’s, not under Thranduil’s watchful eye, but he did take a deep breath and Bilbo knew he succeeded. 

“I am wary of deals made by elvenkings.” Thorin said, looking away from Thranduil. “While I have lived a long life, my memory is not yet faded. I remember a time when there was help needed and refused. Do not presume I have forgiven nor forgotten.” He looked back at Thranduil with a steady gaze. “However it seems that this situation requires me to accept your help. The White Gems of Lasgalen may be lost in Erebor’s treasury but when found, they will be returned. Let me and my people go.” 

Thranduil did not say another word, but from his smile, Bilbo let out a shaky breath of relief. This also meant that Bilbo ought to return to the hospital wing, lest Thranduil find out he snuck off and the deal is broken. He did not want to test the Elven king. Bilbo gave Thorin’s hand a light squeeze and left, slipping away from him and walking down the staircase slowly. 

There were whispers on every side of Bilbo as he descended back into the lower ground of the hall, the elves unnerved by the deal struck by Thorin and Thranduil. It was not lost on Bilbo that they all fully expected Thranduil to shove Thorin into a cell in the lowest part of the dungeon, himself. 

He remembered vaguely the way back to the Hospital Wing, sliding past the elves as they went. 

_Don’t forget that Thorin will undoubtedly betray you again, Bilbo Baggins._

The Ring whispered, the freezing feeling back all over Bilbo’s skin, causing the Hobbit to stumble up the staircase and landing on his knees right in front of the Hospital Wing. 

_We both saw it. That look in his eyes. He’s already dreaming of the Arkenstone._

Abruptly, Bilbo pulled the Ring off and shoved it in his pocket, his lungs feeling like they will collapse. He couldn’t deny it. 

He stepped into the hospital wing, trembling slightly and pulled the coat tightly around him. He sat down on the bed where Himdir had put him earlier. 

A few seconds later, Aglarhel appeared again, this time with narrowed eyes. “Himdir wasn’t lying, was he? Where did you run off to, Halfling?” She asked, flicking her long, dark blonde hair over her shoulder. “I’m Aglarhel Hwestiell. What’s your name?”

“Bilbo Baggins.” Bilbo said quietly, almost feeling like a reprimanded adolescent. He leant backwards as Aglarhel approached him and put her fingers on his forehead. 

“What does _nor_ _ossë_ mean?” Bilbo asked instead, hoping to distract her enough. 

She pulled something out from her dark robes, a small glass vial with a plant inside. Her robes differentiated from Thranduil, who chose pale colours, from every other elf he knew from this kingdom, who favoured colours of the forest. He had rarely seen an elf with colours as dark as the night. 

Aglarhel pressed her lips together as she opened the vial, taking out the small plant. “Eat this.” She gave it to Bilbo, who put it in his mouth. From the second it touched his tongue, a calming sensation ran through his body, chasing away the panic. He felt warm, and loose, if a bit fuzzy. 

“We call it _nor_ _ossë_ for it is double the fear you would usually feel. It’s when you become so fearful, so frightened, you cannot breathe and you cannot perceive the world properly. It is nothing to be ashamed of.” Aglarhel sat down on the bed next to him, “Though many would have you believe it is a shame for warriors to have this fear. Though I do not know much about Halflings, and their word for this affliction.”

Bilbo shrugged, leaning back and smiled softly. “We do not have a word for this, specifically. This is the first time it’s happened actually. But I don’t want to think about that now, or else I’ll start crying again. And I feel rather nice right now.”

Aglarhel looked around, then leant towards Bilbo. “Is it true that you healed the Greenwood?” She whispered, almost as if she was afraid of anyone overhearing. 

Bilbo looked up at her, his head lolling slightly. The plant had dissolved in his mouth, and he was finally feeling the full effects of the plant. It was almost like being drunk, the sluggishness of his movements, the way he couldn’t quite focus on anything in particular. 

“I didn’t heal the Greenwood.” He mumbled, giggling, “She did.” Bilbo pointed to the ceiling, grinning madly now. 

“Oh no. I gave you too much.” Aglarhel sighed, dropping her head in disappointment. “I should have given you a little bit first, to see how much you could take. But I heard Halflings eat more than a Man.” She stopped Bilbo’s head from lolling to the front, pushing it back against the pillow. “You’re not making any sense. Though I suppose the rumours aren’t either. I mean, a Halfling from the Shire with magic that can heal the forest we haven’t been able to heal for centuries?” Aglarhel stood back up, throwing her hands in the air, which caused Bilbo to giggle more. 

“And then, all these dwarves are pounding the guards to see ‘their hobbit’ and ‘He’s ours, give him back’.” She shook her head, looking back at him. 

Bilbo blushed brightly, “Re-really? Who said that?”

Aglarhel raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief, “I don’t know. Does it matter which one said that? It was a blond one, I think. Never thought I’d ever see a blonde dwarf.” She thought out loud, walking over to the window next to Bilbo. 

“Wait- did you meet them? Did you go to them? Where are they? I didn’t-” Bilbo gasped, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. 

“Didn’t what?” Aglarhel looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. She pursed her lips, “Yeah, I went down to the prisoners to look for you. I don’t know how you escaped, but you better not do it again.”

“And the blonde one stood out to you, did he?” Bilbo grinned brightly, standing up now with a slight sway. He always had been a hopeless romantic. When Tauriel and Kili had declared their love for each other, Bilbo had been ecstatic for Kili to find love, though he knew Thorin had hated it. In the end, it didn’t matter, but for a short while, Kili had been hopeful. Bilbo knew enough of elves that even a slight comment meant much more than one would think. 

“No. He did not. I was just- surprised.” Aglarhel looked back outside the forest. Dark clouds were gathering over the palace, curling and spreading over the forest. Thunder and a flash of white, and Bilbo stumbled against the wall, sliding down. He shivered, the sound of rain filling up the space quickly .

Aglarhel frowned and knelt next to him, “Are you- what’s happening?” She placed her hands on his shoulders, rubbing her thumbs into the fabric of his coat. 

“Memories.” Bilbo shuttered, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall. “Too much.” He whispered, as his head felt flooded suddenly. He couldn’t even focus on a particular memory, just bits here and there. 

A stone giant

a fall

travelling during the rain

a feeling of hopelessness

a corpse

a second

a third

a fourth

a fifth

_“You have no claim over me, you miserable rat!”_

“Bilbo-” Aglarhel opened Bilbo’s mouth, placing her fingers on his tongue, whispering, “ _ice_.” and suddenly, Bilbo’s mind snapped back to reality as soon as she had whispered the word. Her fingers had created a small piece of ice, letting it melt on Bilbo’s tongue. 

He blinked a couple of times, looking around disoriented. 

She stood back up, looking around with a displeased face. “Here. Lay down.” She helped him back up and moved him back to the bed. “That was bad. I gave you too much. I’m sorry, I’m still learning how to take care of non-elf beings.” She apologised, helping him lay down. 

Bilbo shivered, shrugging. “I’m not sure what’s happening with me.” He whispered, pulling the blanket over him. 

“Too many troubles can overthrow your mind. Have you-” Aglarhel pressed her lips together, sitting down at his side. She looked almost hesitant, “Have you tried talking to someone about whatever is plaguing you?”

Bilbo stared at her for a second then started laughing, a swirl of panic and relief swirling inside of him. “I’m not sure I can just walk up to someone and say ‘the entire world depends on me’, I don’t think they’d get it.” 

“Hey- everyone has the weight of the world on their shoulders. I’m sure your friends will understand. Though on second thought, they are dwarves. All they think about are jewels and gold.” She shrugged and Bilbo stopped laughing, shaking his head. 

“That’s-that’s not true!” He burst out loud, yelling at her. “They think about other things as well. They care about other things. They care about- they care about me. I-I need to tell them. This can’t go on-” Bilbo suddenly felt like he was incredibly hot, sweating profusely. 

“Hey-whoa-” Aglarhel stopped him as he tried to weasel out of the blanket, out of the bed. “Whatever you need to tell them- all of a sudden- you can do that later, when I’ve treated you. I thought it was _nor_ _ossë_ , but there is clearly something specific you’re thinking about.” 

Himdir appeared out of nowhere, pointing his finger at Bilbo and shouted, “I told you he was here!”, causing Aglarhel to jump up and turn around with fists clenched. 

_“How many times do I need to tell you- you can’t just burst in here! This is a delicate room with a lot of echoes- don’t just shout at me!”_ She growled, walking around the bed to hit Himdir’s shoulder. _“I have a patient here- who miraculously appeared, so thank you very much, Himdir.”_

Himdir pouted, rubbing his shoulder. _“Orders from Thranduil. The dwarves and their halfling are to be released and brought to the edge of the forest. They’ll be escorted by the Captain of the Guard and the second watch.”_

Bilbo watched the two interact, sitting up and pushing the blanket off of him. Bilbo couldn’t believe it- this was too easy. Now, the shame from earlier crept up again. He had been panicking and scheming for nothing. Why was Thranduil letting them go so easily?

Aglarhel sighed and turned around to Bilbo, but Himdir spoke again. 

_“Though before the halfling is released, Thranduil ordered that he be brought to him for interrogation. He used the word ‘instantly’.”_

“I’m sorry, Bilbo. I won’t have time to help you any more, not that I’m sure I helped to begin with. If you ever experience something like that again, take a little bit of this. It won’t last long, but it’ll help a little bit.” Aglarhel reached into her robes and pulled out another small vial with the same plant in it. She gave it to Bilbo, with a grim look on her face. 

Bilbo nodded, pretending not to know what will happen next. “Thank you for your help. You did help me, I know now that there is something I must do. I don’t think I’ll see you again, but if we do, then I hope we meet again as friends.” He stood up shakily and she nodded simply. 

“It will be unlikely that we meet again. But- if we do- I hope it’s not under the same circumstances.” Aglarhel gave him a stressed smile and let Himdir guide Bilbo to the door, the small Hobbit holding onto Himdir’s elbow as if he were an old man. 

_“Next time I see you, cousin, you better knock the next time.”_ Aglarhel shouted after Himdir, which caused the red-haired elf to chuckle slightly. 

Bilbo looked over his shoulder and waved to the elf before she disappeared from sight. 

“Do you know what this is about?” Bilbo asked, a pretense of innocence, and looked up at the elf. Himdir simply frowned, shaking his head.

“Nothing good, then?” Bilbo swallowed meekly. 

Himdir looked down at the Hobbit and sighed, “You’re okay.” He gave him a stressed smile, reminiscent of Aglarhel’s stressed smile and Bilbo should have realized the two were related before, as they shared the exact same eyes. 

“Are the others okay?” Bilbo whispered as quietly as he could. He knew Himdir was most likely not allowed to give him any information on the other dwarves, though Bilbo was desperate to hear about them. They must have only been separated for a few hours, yet the dwarves have become such a family to him that he missed them already.

Himdir’s smile faded to a neutral face as they started passing by more and more elves. Bilbo pouted, wondering if they were allowed to smile or whether Elves were just naturally strict that when some Elves smiled they found it unnatural. 

**Elves have always been so prickly when it came to emotions.** Bilbo lamented, thinking back on Elrond and Legolas. Though the Legolas in this life seemed to already differ from the Elf he himself knew. Legolas had been disgusted by the dwarves, distrusting and hateful. This time around, he had seemed curious and intrigued, above all else. 

“Yes.” Himdir whispered at the same time as he opened the door, the answer almost swallowed by the sound. 

It was not the same hall where Thorin had been held, nor was it one that Bilbo ever remembered seeing. It was much smaller, and though it held the similar style of endless pillars and raised wooden platforms, it was more confined. There was a massive dinner table placed on the highest platform, but Bilbo could not see much more. 

“You- you want me to climb all those stairs? After we’ve already climbed a thousand stairs just coming here?” Bilbo sighed exasperatedly, looking up at Himdir as if he couldn’t believe it. 

Himdir simply nodded, letting go of Bilbo and standing to the side, placing his hands behind his back. 

“And you won’t even help me up?” Bilbo sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “I could be an old Hobbit, for all you know. You’re going to let an old Hobbit walk all the way up by himself?” Bilbo grumbled but Himdir did not respond. He did smile for the briefest moment, which Bilbo saw. 

He sighed and started walking up the stairs, slow and deliberate. As he reached the end of the staircase, he saw now why he was brought here. The first thing that caught his eye was the enormous amount of food that was on the table. Instantly, his stomach growled an ugly noise and his mouth watered slightly. While the Elves of Rivendell had been more traditional in their dining, Thranduil was more extravagant. Steaming dishes were scattered around the table, containing everything Bilbo’s little hobbit heart could hope for. 

The second thing that caught his eyes were the people sitting around the table. First, he saw Legolas. Young, with wide eyes, watching Bilbo. Then he saw Thranduil, who was sitting next to his son, though his chair was much more extravagant. Then, another elf was sat opposite of the two royal elves, though Bilbo did not recognize this elf. 

“Come forward, Halfling. Join us.” Thranduil called out to him and motioned for him to sit down next to the unknown elf. Several elves were stationed around the table, at the edge of the platforms. Bilbo didn’t know them either. 

Silently, Bilbo sat down next to the unknown elf. While the others were much taller than him, Bilbo was barely tall enough to reach the shoulder of the elf next to him. 

“Are you better now?” Legolas asked impatiently, leaning forward on his elbows. 

Bilbo looked at him, startled out of his train of thought and nodded simply. “Yes, thank you.”

“What is your name, Halfling?” Thranduil started serving himself. The others followed his cue, filling their plates up quickly. Bilbo followed suit, reaching for anything within his reach and started eating. 

“I’m Bilbo Baggins.” He said once he swallowed his first bite of mashed potato. It was heavenly. 

“May I ask why you are travelling with Thorin Oakenshield and his Company?” Thranduil held a polite tone. Though Bilbo also felt that Thranduil’s polite tone was the same as his hostile one. 

“You mean to ask why a Hobbit would care to reclaim the dwarves’ homeland?” Bilbo raised his eyebrows, seeing through Thranduil’s question. He was eating quickly, refilling his plate constantly. 

“Well, why would a Hobbit care to reclaim a dwarves’ homeland?” Legolas asked, staring at Bilbo. The Hobbit looked up at Legolas, taking a good look. This Legolas was much softer to look at than Bilbo ever remembered. While his hair was styled the same way, he dressed the same way, Legolas seemed much more open about his emotions, much more curious about the world. A natural curiosity of a child who has not seen the world. Bilbo’s eyes flicked over to Thranduil who was staring at him, too now. 

“I think it’s quite rude that we’re dining and you’re asking me such personal questions.” Bilbo deflected, uncomfortable and raw in his emotions. The plant was still calming his nerves, but he could tell it was wearing off. 

The elf next to him looked at him too now. Bilbo raised an eyebrow at him, wondering who this elf was. 

“This is Amondaer Aendarion.” Legolas waved over to the elf next to Bilbo and Amondaer bowed his head slightly to Bilbo. “He is well-versed in the people of Middle-Earth and our Keeper of the Books.” 

Bilbo nodded, “It’s nice to meet you. I wasn’t aware that Greenwood had a library, if I’m honest.” He noted, frowning at how quickly he had eaten his food. The plates surrounding Bilbo were now empty, though he was still hungry. Thranduil, narrowing his eyes in curiosity, waved at an elf nearby, _“Bring the halfling more food.”_

“It certainly isn’t the same as Rivendell, though we’re proud enough of ours.” Amondaer said, with little emotion. 

“Mhm. Interesting. I was curious as to why the great Elvenking Thranduil would want to meet with me, but my curiosity has not been sated.” Bilbo said in the most diplomatic manner he possibly could, while eagerly awaiting the arrival of more food. 

Thranduil nodded, sipping some of his red wine. Bilbo reached for his own glass, mirroring him. 

“I struck a deal with Thorin Oakenshield. I let your company go, I would even guide you to the edge of my forest and in return, he will give me my gems back. I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it once you’ve left my forest. However there is still the matter of the spiders, and the light.”

Bilbo choked on his red wine, slamming the cup on the table and coughing helplessly, spluttering slightly. Amondaer reached over, patting Bilbo’s back gently. 

“Agh- yes- the spiders. How could we forget the spiders?” Bilbo sighed, leaning back on the chair. 

“So you do know what happened. It’s peculiar enough for a Halfling to travel with a Company of dwarves.” Thranduil poured more wine into his cup. 

“To which you still haven’t answered our question.” Legolas leant forward, burning with curiosity. 

“Hmpf- yes- well-” Bilbo stuttered just as food was set down in front of him. Rather than answering, he decided to dig into the food. 

The silence was heavy while Bilbo ate- quite noisily- the rest of his food. Once he was done, he leant back again, rubbing his full stomach and sighed. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you I killed them all by myself, would you?” Bilbo chuckled to himself. The food seemed to have reactivated the plant’s effects on Bilbo, his head fuzzy again. 

**Yavannah, help me.** Bilbo thought helplessly. 

“A halfling. Killing all those spiders by himself? I doubt it very much. A halfling and thirteen other dwarves killing all those spiders by themselves? Perhaps, if you had the advantage. My scouts, however, told me that there were no wounds made by traditional dwarfish weapons. Weapons we confiscated from your travel companions. There was one sword, however, that did fit the wounds inflicted on the spiders. We even brought one spider back for inspection. It was as if this little sword-” Thranduil brought out _Sting_ from underneath the table and set it down in the middle, “inflicted all those weapons. As if this weapon had been activated by a power older than anything on this earth- the Spider’s wounds were not simply stab wounds, you see.” Thranduil stood up, walking around the table with his cup in hand. 

Bilbo paled slightly at the sight of his sword on the dining table. Legolas, on the other hand, was on his father’s every word, listening intently. Amondaer was still unreadable. 

“And then there is also the matter of the healed Greenwood.” Thranduil stopped walking once he stood next to Bilbo. 

“I wonder why you think I would know anything about this?” Bilbo raised his eyebrows at the Elvenking. 

Thranduil nodded, leaning against the table. “I agree, I wonder why, as well. There is just something about you, Bilbo Baggins, which intrigues me.” He leant forward now, into Bilbo’s space, inches away from his face. 

Bilbo swallowed nervously and was about to say something when the familiar warmth filled his heart and Yavanna must have appeared briefly, showing a soft glow of green in his eyes, but as swiftly as she arrived, she left again. 

Thranduil inhaled sharply, taking a few steps back and dropped his cup. 

“Father?” Legolas jumped up and walked around the table swiftly to hold his father. 

Bilbo licked his dry lips, digging his hands into the chair beneath him, looking away. 

“So it is.” Thranduil nodded, picking up his cup and patting his son’s shoulder. He led both of them to their seats and sat down. “So it is.” He mumbled again to himself, and refilled his wine shakily. 

“Dismissed. Bilbo Baggins, you will change this world yet. Call on my help- on any soldier of Greenwood- and we will come to your aid.” Thranduil spoke with bold, rash words, lifting his cup high. “The Lady Yavannah blessed this Hobbit with a course of fate and we shall oblige to her Champion’s needs.” He announced and Bilbo could hear gasps all around. Legolas quickly moved to lift his cup high too. Amondaer, too, lifted his cup, though he did not hold the excitement that Thranduil and Legolas held. 

Bilbo nodded, lifting his cup, too. 

“I thank you, Thranduil Oropherion, for your vow of aid.” He said, relieved beyond imagination. “I will desperately need your aid in the future.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nor ossë- literally 'fear fear' (the first word is a prefix, second is a noun) so it's what the elves use to describe anxiety/panic attacks
> 
> So!! Thoughts? Feelings? I'm really having way too much fun with adding all these original characters like Himdir, Aglarhel and Amondaer, i hope you enjoy them as much as i do <3
> 
> follow me on instagram @pallalalo for updates on when I'll post and character drawings!!
> 
> ill try and update for friday, the 19th June


	7. Erugalu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can’t wait to get my axe back.” Gloin grumbled, moving in line in front of Bilbo. He looked longingly at his axe which was strapped to the back of the unknown blonde elf; it was only now that Bilbo noticed that the elves had split up their stash of weapons among them and were carrying them as well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you thank you thank you all for your patience!!!!!
> 
> such nice comments, honestly, i hope you all enjoy this chapter as you have been the previous ones!!!

“Thank you for the dinner, Thranduil. It was nice meeting you, Legolas, Amondaer.” Bilbo stood up, rubbing his stomach and taking _Sting_ from the table. “I didn’t realize how starved I had been on this journey.” He chuckled. 

Amondaer stood up as well, walking around to Bilbo. “Farewell, Master Baggins. I hope to join you once you reconquered the Mountain as a cultural ambassador.” He said quietly while Legolas was talking to Thranduil. 

Bilbo looked up at the elf and raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I didn’t expect that. Any reason why?” He swallowed nervously, trying to remember desperately what had happened to an elf named Amondaer in his last life. He did not remember any such elf joining the troop of Mirkwood soldiers that had shown up, neither after the battle. 

“It’d be nice to actually use my skills, for once. I don’t do much here in the palace, except read up on cultures, rather than meeting them.” Amondaer confessed, eyes flitting to the side to look at Thranduil. 

Bilbo hummed and nodded, “Then let me show you something. Where I’m from, this is both a greeting gesture as well as a farewell gesture.” He motioned for Amondaer to lean down and took his face in both of his hands, rubbing their noses together, leaning into his left. 

When he pulled away, he saw Amondaer’s face become instantly red and the elf looked away, touching his cheeks absent-mindedly. 

All of a sudden, the neutral, calm ambassador was gone, replaced with a stuttering, blushing elf. 

“That- are you sure? That seems incredibly inappropriate to do. Is that a greeting between lovers- or- or married ones?” He avoided Bilbo’s eye-contact, instead peering down the stairs. 

“No, no, it’s an incredibly common greeting. Between strangers, business partners, families, friends, lovers. Everyone greets each other this way. The way I greeted you- to the left- is appropriate for newly made friends. If i had greeted you to the right, that would be reserved for close friends and families.” He explained, chuckling softly. “I showed this greeting to a friend I made in Rivendell- he had quite a different reaction.”

“I would imagine so. Rivendellians are so much more-” Amondaer waved his hands around in a circular gesture, shaking his head. “This was enlightening, however.” He mumbled to himself. “I think I must retreat and document this. Farewell, Bilbo Baggins.” He bowed his head slightly and left quickly. 

Bilbo stared after him, wondering what he meant about Rivendellians. He watched the elf walk down quickly then pause, standing in front of Himdir. He was too far away for Bilbo to catch any of his words, but his eyes were keen enough to see whatever Amondaer had told him, it left Himdir with a bright smile, watching Amondaer leave. He must have felt Bilbo watching him, as he looked up towards him and quickly looked away, blushing slightly. 

Bilbo, too old and stuffed with food to really care about shame, just continued watching Himdir. 

Legolas appeared at his side, smiling politely. 

“You’ve met Himdir, have you?” The elf prince bowed his head slightly towards Bilbo. Bilbo simply nodded, looking up at Legolas. 

“He is a part of Tauriel’s watch-guard, you know. So he’ll be joining us on our way to escort you to the edge of the Greenwood.” 

Bilbo nodded, “You’re to join us? When do we depart?” He hoped he could lay down for a short while, rest his eyes maybe. Not only was he so full of food, he might fall asleep, but the entire day had been stressful. And it was catching up to Bilbo- from spiders, to the panic attack, he was ready for a short nap. 

“Right now- I shall escort you to meet the other dwarves, secure some supplies and then we start our way towards the edge of the forest.” 

Legolas just smiled, seemingly oblivious to the exhaustion on Bilbo’s face that must be incredibly obvious- at least he felt it should have been. Though he knew better than to assume this was anything else than Thranduil wanting to be rid of Thorin as quickly as he could, and Thorin wanting to be out of the Greenwood as soon as he could. 

It didn’t matter that they all should rest beforehand- when there was no love lost, there was no time to linger. 

#

“Bilbo-”

“You’re okay-”

“We were so worried-”

As soon as Bilbo stepped into the view of the dwarves, he was bombarded with their questions and hands reaching for him. He chuckled tiredly, reaching out for them as well. The small crowd of dwarves parted to reveal their leader, Thorin who took two steps and enveloped Bilbo into an intimate hug. 

“Bilbo, I feared for you safety so much.” He whispered, digging his massive hands in Bilbo’s back, and cradling the tired Hobbit in his arms. Bilbo buried his head in Thorin’s neck, curling up his hands against his chest. He didn’t respond, his tongue too heavy and tired to speak much and instead just hummed, closing his eyes. 

“Thank you for returning him to us, Master elf.” Ori spoke very politely to Legolas, who stood just a few feet behind him. 

Bilbo would have paid attention to what was going on around him, but in the comfort of Thorin’s arms, it was hard to do so. 

“I know you must be tired.” Thorin whispered, stroking Bilbo’s hair now. “But we must press on- we may have time to spare but we should not do so in our enemy’s kingdom.” 

And here it was- the true thought behind the action. Bilbo should have pulled away and argued. If he were strong enough, he’d say something about forging alliances, looking forward to the future where aid would be needed. He would admit that this could be the first step to Thorin’s descent into madness- that while he negotiated with pretty words, Thorin was not a different dwarf, not really. 

But he felt weak, and incredibly tired. He grunted something, shaking his head slowly but Thorin simply shushed him, whispering reassurances into his ear. 

Though when Bilbo pulled away from Thorin to look around at the others, he saw the way Kili looked over at Tauriel. He also saw the easy way that Ori had been conversing with Legolas. The other dwarves were clumped together around Bilbo and Thorin, of course, as if by shielding them, they would have some privacy. 

“We shall march in an hour’s time. We will return your weapons at the border, not a minute before.” Tauriel called out, her voice harsh and unyielding in the common tongue. “I will lead, and my soldiers will form a guard around you. While we are under orders to escort you, you are under our protection. Expect to be treated as such.” Legolas stood behind Tauriel, eyes staring past her at the company of dwarves, only straying slightly to her. With that, she turned around to leave. 

“Thank Yavannah-” Bilbo grumbled and instantly moved out of the crowd of the dwarves to the small pile of their bags that had been assembled, unceremoniously dropping himself over his own bag and curling up. This caused a chuckle to go around, the dwarves watching their favourite hobbit go. 

Bofur called out, laughing, “Aye, Bilbo has the right idea!” Bilbo had his eyes closed, but he could guess it was Bofur who rearranged some of the bags around Bilbo and layed down next to him. Further scuffling was heard and soon enough, or so Bilbo would guess, most of the dwarves had laid down around him. 

Fili and Kili in particular had weaselled their way into laying specifically around their Burglar, curled almost intimately around him. 

Bilbo felt someone’s eyes on him and peeked around, finding that Thorin was standing in front of the pile of dwarves with almost a petty glare. 

“I do not know how you can sleep so easily when we are so deeply beyond enemy territory.” He huffed quietly, though Bilbo knew no matter how quiet Thorin would be, the elves would hear him nonetheless. 

Bilbo shrugged, closing his eyes again and yawned softly. 

“Come on, Uncle. Our Hobbit is exhausted. The least we can do is protect him!” Kili shout-whispered with a giggle. 

“Aye, with your bodies, so it seems.” Thorin huffed again. 

“You could-”

“I will not-”

The voices all blended together as Bilbo drifted off, warm bodies pressed all around him. Intended to be a quick nap, Bilbo fell into a deep slumber with no dreams. It was the most peaceful sleep he had gotten in what felt like years. He only awoke when hands shook him awake, gripping his shoulders and suddenly, voices appeared next to his head. 

“Bilbo-”

“You’re too loud, you have to be gentle-”

“I am gentle! I am more gentle than you, you-”

“He’s waking up!” Ori whispered, and when Bilbo opened his eyes, incredibly reluctantly, he found the Ri brothers all knelt around him. 

“Bilbo, it’s time to go.” Dori said, hands curled around his shoulders. “We tried to tell them you need a little more time but that red-headed elf is getting so impatient-” He huffed, and Nori chuckled lowly. 

“Aye, I think it’s Prince Kili’s doing, that.”

Bilbo groaned but slowly sat up, blinking a few times. “I wish I could just sleep for days.” He mumbled, and stretched his arms over his head. 

“As a bunny should. That Beorn fellow had the right idea, I see it now. Maybe a couple of bunny ears hidden in that-” Nori said, gesturing around his hair, “whatever you’re doing with your hair.” He patted Bilbo’s head, then stood up. 

Ori laughed at his brother’s antics, shaking his head. “Don’t listen to him, Bilbo.” He helped the Hobbit stand up. Bilbo then noticed they were the only ones in the small hall, everybody else’s bags gone as well. In fact, Dori, Nori, and Ori were also laden with bags. They almost looked as if they were ready to go, were it not for the lack of weapons. Though, out of all of them, it would most likely for Nori to have some hidden weapons.

Bilbo brushed Nori's hands off of himself once Nori was convinced that perhaps Bilbo was truly hiding bunny ears in his hair, wordlessly picking up his bag and securing it around his back. 

“I’m surprised they let you keep _Sting_.” Ori said, leading Bilbo away from Nori and to the Company of Dwarves and Tauriel and her soldiers. 

“Either they don’t think you can stage an uprising against them or maybe you’re too small to keep in their view, so when an attack comes, they think you’ll slip away and will need to protect yourself.” Nori chortled behind him. 

Dori slapped Nori’s shoulder, chiding him. “That will not happen. They may have taken our weapons, but we won’t let anything happen to ya, Bilbo.”

“Thank you, Dori.” Bilbo grumbled, trying his best not to resemble an old man woken from his slumber. “But I will be absolutely fine. I’ve managed to get this far, haven’t I?” 

“That’s right, Bilbo! We’re almost there!” Ori whispered excitedly as they joined the group. 

Tauriel stood in front of the gate, wide stance with her hands behind her back. She looked sternly down at all of them. Behind her stood Legolas and Himdir, equipped with weapons. Legolas had both his bow and quiver, as well as his twin blades, his _white knives_. Himdir on the other hand, did not have a bow with a quiver but instead had two swords on each side of his hips, as well as another one strapped to his back. 

To Himdir’s left, stood an elf with dark red hair, braided back in a similar way to Himdir’s hair. Instead of swords, this elf had opted for a more traditional weapon, which Bilbo had not seen anywhere but in the paintings in the library of Rivendell, of days when the races of middle-earth banded together to fight Sauron himself; the _lhang_. Based on the shortness of the braid, however Bilbo was intrigued. Elves, even the men, usually had long hair. This elf’s hair was longer than Síledir’s, but shorter than Himdir’s. To Legolas’ side stood a dark blonde elf, who unlike the other unknown elf, had an amused expression on their face. Dressed in different tones of green, this elf had a bow on their back, a quiver on their hip and two daggers strapped to their back. 

Bilbo did not remember their faces, just like he had not remembered Himdir’s, Aglarhel’s, Amathion’s nor Síledir’s. Did Bilbo just not meet these elves last time around? What had happened to them?

“Now. Prince Legolas and I will lead. Aithiel and Taerion will patrol the sides, and Himdir will be last. Do not try to sneak past us. Do as I tell you and we shall part ways peacefully.” Tauriel nodded at the others and they split up, forming around the dwarves. Thorin looked incredibly displeased but chose not to say anything, following Tauriel and Legolas with Dwalin at his side. 

He did look over his shoulder to make eye contact with Bilbo, who gave him a sleepy smile. That seemed to cheer Thorin up slightly, whose corners of his mouth curled upwards for the briefest moment. 

“I can’t wait to get my axe back.” Gloin grumbled, moving in line in front of Bilbo. He looked longingly at his axe which was strapped to the back of the unknown blonde elf; it was only now that Bilbo noticed that the elves had split up their stash of weapons among them and were carrying them as well. 

Bilbo tried to gaze at Legolas but to no avail; but he could guess that the sword that Thorin had taken, _Orcrist_ , which Elrond himself had given his approval for Thorin to have. 

Fili and Kili appeared at his side, grinning as Himdir took his place at the back of the Company. “This shouldn’t take more than a day or two, apparently. Don’t worry, Bilbo, if you’re still tired, one of us can carry you.” Kili offered, walking directly in front of Bilbo, half turned around. 

“Aye, I think if anyone’s carrying Bilbo, it ought to be Thorin.” Dori huffed at the young princes, rolling his eyes. 

“Why? We’re strong!” Kili frowned, flexing his arms. 

Fili grinned, “Besides, I think Thorin’s too busy with glaring at that red-headed she-elf up front. Though I think he’s not the only one who’s busy lookin’ at her.” He eyes his brother, who watched Tauriel, so much taller than the dwarves, towering above them and so he could watch her from far away. 

“There’s nothin’ wrong with looking.” Kili dismissed Fili’s comment, grinning. 

Bilbo raised his eyebrows, leant forward and whispered not-so-quietly, “Her name is Tauriel.” 

Kili’s head snapped around to stare at Bilbo. “What a beautiful name.” He said, his eyes wide. Fili though, stared at Bilbo too. 

“How do you know her name?”

“It’s called being polite, Fili. As future King, you should learn to hone your diplomatic skills.” Bilbo simply said, slowing down a bit so he would be walking next to Ori and Dori. 

Dori looked at Bilbo through the sides of his eyes, whispering, “How did you know her name?”

Bilbo shrugged, resting his hands on his belt. 

“You’d be surprised at what you pick up when you decide to listen to others, rather than choosing to ignore them.” 

#

It was the most peculiar group of people travelling together. The Elves kept to themselves, never daring to speak a word of common to the Company. Likewise, the dwarves only spoke in hushed khuzdul to themselves, only speaking common when they were speaking to Bilbo. 

As if that hadn’t been enough to turn Bilbo into a sour man again, this part of the forest had not been touched by Yavanna’s light and the heavy illusion of confusion returned, causing the fog in Bilbo’s head to grow with each step they took away from Thranduil’s palace. 

When they paused for the night, it was a similar set up they had before the Elves joined. They gathered their things in a circle, placing guards to watch the forest. This time, though, the Elves joined their guard, though blending in better with the trees. 

Bilbo, however, decided that he did not want to wait until the both groups would perhaps decide it would be nice to work together; which would never happen. And while his head may feel like it's floating above his own body, he knew it was important for the relationship between Mirkwood and the dwarves of Erebor to recover. 

Ignoring the whispers of the others, Bilbo walked out of the small circle the dwarves had created and stood next to Himdir, who looked incredibly alarmed at Bilbo’s sudden interest. 

“Do you need any help, Master Baggins?” Himdir asked, standing up from where he had been leaning against the tree. 

“No, no, everything’s quite alright. I was just thinking about the plant your cousin gave to me. I’m afraid I don’t remember what she told me- whether to take it before or after I have eaten?” Bilbo asked politely, smiling up at the elf. 

Himdir narrowed his eyes, confused. “I don’t think she mentioned that detail. As with most things, it’s better to take it with food in your stomach. Are the- are the dwarves feeding you well? I’m afraid I only have lembas bread on my person.” 

“Oh, it’s fine, it’s just fine. It was very kind of you to replenish our food storage.” Bilbo nodded, patting his stomach. “I find that the cuisine of Greenwood is more akin to that of the Shire than Rivendell, actually.” 

Himdir raised his eyebrows, curiosity piqued. “Really? I remember Amondaer mentioning something like that.” For a second it looked like that was the end of the conversation, but Himdir smiled shyly, then said, “You know, King Thranduil asked him what kind of dishes Halflings prefer. It seemed like the dinner our King gave you was a success? Did you enjoy it all?”

Bilbo grinned brightly in memory of that feast, “I hadn’t eaten that well in quite a while. I’ll have to thank Amondaer myself when I see him next. He mentioned working as a cultural ambassador between the two kingdoms.”

Himdir nodded, leaning back against the tree as Bilbo sat down next to him. “Yes. He’s quite excited. There’s not much culture to be found in Laketown, or so he tells me.”

Bilbo chuckled, about to counter that Laketown always had culture about it, you just had to live amongst the people to see it- that the people would rebuild their city to become an important and great city after Smaug destroyed theirs. Instead, he simply shrugged. “I’ve never been. I suppose I will see for myself soon enough.”

“Aye. Beware the Master of Laketown. Hoarder of Gold, he’s almost worse than Smaug.” Himdir said quietly, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. Suddenly, he knelt next to Bilbo, voice incredibly low. “Give him a deal, a promise for some of the money inside the mountain, and he should not cause you any problems.”

“Why are you whispering? Is this a secret?” Bilbo frowned, looking back to the other dwarves. Thorin was intently watching Bilbo and Himdir talk, frowning deeply. The other dwarves were watching as well, though not as intently as their leader. 

“Not exactly, he’s quite an open book. Though, I would imagine that your leader is not one for promises of money. Dwarves already are a people that love to hoard wealth, but I have heard stories about Thorin’s ancestors. I was there, when his grandfather was overtaken with gold-madness.” Himdir sighed, “My cousin is sure that you’re the one who will be able to convince Thorin of this promise.”

Bilbo blushed brightly at this suggestion; that Aglarhel of all people would have guessed this. “I- so you _do_ want to watch us succeed? I assumed all soldiers of the Greenwood hate dwarves?” He distracted from the subject, looking away from Thorin. 

Himdir smirked at Bilbo’s blush but let the Hobbit change the topic. “I know my King wants his gems back. I know that if you succeed, Erebor will bring many opportunities both for the Men of Laketown and Amondaer. Besides, Bilbo Baggins, you are _Erugalu_. We were all told to give you our aid, no matter what it be.” 

“ _Erugalu?_ Is that- uh- blessed by Eru?” Bilbo thought for a second.

Himdir nodded slowly, “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Is this the thing you were panicking about? Do your friends not know?”

Bilbo sighed, shrugging. “No, they know. Sort of. Look, just don’t mention it, they get a bit weird about that sort of thing-” 

“As if I would talk to one of the dwarves, Master Baggins.” Himdir rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why you wish to keep this blessing a secret, but I swore to give you my aid. I won’t mention it to the dwarves.”

“You can call me Bilbo.” The Hobbit sighed, “And you never know. You might grow to like one or two of them.”

“You can call me Himdir, then. Though you already knew that too, didn’t you?” Himdir smiled, leaning his head to the side. 

Bilbo nodded, “Though Legolas told me that.” He sighed softly, yawning and stretching his arms. “I’m quite content to be a Hobbit, you know, though I will admit one thing I am jealous of is how apparently you Elves do not tire.” 

Himdir grinned, “Yes, I agree. It’s quite nice. Good night, Bilbo. I will speak to you again, soon.” He stood back up, regaining his watch over the dwarves. 

Bilbo too stood up and raised an eyebrow at Himdir, smirking slightly. “Himdir, aren’t you supposed to be looking that way? For any spiders that might attack us?”

Himdir chuckled slightly, “I’m not on spider duty. I’m on dwarf duty. Much nastier than spiders, requires all my focus.”

“Sure it does. Goodnight.” Bilbo shook his head in disbelief and walked back to the circle of dwarves. 

“Why were you talking to that elf there, Bilbo?” Thorin huffed quietly, sitting down next to Bilbo. 

“Oh, Thorin.” Bilbo mumbled, pulling Thorin to lay down next to him, rather than sitting up. “If you must know, his cousin treated me when I was overtaken by my fear.” He sighed. He never did tell Thorin what had actually happened, nor had they talked about Bilbo holding his hand while he negotiated with Thranduil. “I was just asking him some questions about the plant I’m supposed to take when I get like that again.”

“Overtaken by fear?” Thorin whispered, leaning over Bilbo and frowning softly. “Are you okay now?” he caressed Bilbo’s cheek, lovingly and slowly. 

“Yes, yes, I’m better. For now, anyway. I had never experienced something like that before.” Bilbo confessed, leaning into Thorin’s touch. 

“I should have recognized it. I thought you had been poisoned.” Thorin shook his head, his gentle yet calloused hand still caressing his cheek. “We call it _sweldnien._ Overtaken by fear, indeed. I hope those Elves were not cruel to you.” He said more seriously now, leaning forward. 

Bilbo’s heart skipped a beat at the proximity of the other dwarf, but he leant in. “No, no, not at all. They were incredibly kind. Aglarhel told me what it was- I’m not to be ashamed of it.”

Thorin nodded once. “Of course not. I’m just surprised to see it in you. In our culture, it is usually found amongst the older generation, and now mine. The survival of a battle, of a fight with death. My Hobbit, what have you seen that causes you such grief?” Though the words themselves almost sounded like doubt, Thorin said them with such concern and care, that Bilbo suddenly felt the urge to fight off tears. 

“I saw death- I saw _y-_ his body-” He whimpered, his head swimming with the haze of the forest and the ache of seeing Thorin’s lifeless body. 

Thorin took his hand away from Bilbo’s face, frowning. “What- Bilbo? Whose body? Are you- why are you crying?” He looked around to the others for help. 

“It doesn’t matter now- it’s all over- I’m fine-” Bilbo whimpered, embarrassment burning in his stomach. 

Thorin helped Bilbo sit up, his strong arms still curled around Bilbo. “It’s okay, Bilbo, it’s okay.” 

“I don’t- I never-” Bilbo whimpered, the harsh voice of the Ring laughing in the back of his head. 

_What are you going to tell him? Whose body did you see, Bilbo? Whose bodies?_

Himdir walked over, kneeling in front of Bilbo. “Where is it?” he went to look through Bilbo’s bag but Thorin, letting go of Bilbo, grabbed Himdir’s arms roughly and growled at him to back off. 

Instantly, the other blonde elf had her bow and arrow pointed at Thorin, appearing out of nowhere. The other dwarves were all riled up; standing around Thorin with their makeshift guard. 

Bilbo put his hands on Thorin’s hands, taking them gently from Himdir’s arms. “Th-thorin-” He whimpered softly, tears still sliding down his cheeks. He really hoped this wouldn’t become a recurring theme- he knew the memories were tough to deal with, but he had hoped it would have gotten easier as time went on, not worse. 

“Just breathe with me, Bilbo.” Himdir glared at Thorin but took deep breaths and Bilbo followed, ignoring the chaos around him and focusing on breathing slowly. 

**It’s fine, everything’s fine, I have everything under control.**

_Do you?_

“Thank you, Himdir. I- I put the vial in this pocket-” Bilbo took out the small vial of glass from his right pocket, only now realizing how close Himdir had been to touching the Ring of power. That caused his heart to drop, sweat forming on his forehead. 

“But I’m fine now.” Bilbo shook his head, smiling weakly and leaning his head on Thorin’s broad shoulder. Focusing on Thorin’s breathing was nice too; he was here and he was alive. 

And everyone was staring at Bilbo now. Instead of acknowledging this however, he simply closed his eyes and buried his face in Thorin’s fur coat. 

Himdir cleared his throat, calling to the other elf, _“Aithiel, put your bow away. Return to your guard. Let’s let these dwarves sleep it off.”_ And walked back to where he was standing seconds ago. 

Thorin let out a deep sigh, curling his hands around Bilbo again. “You’re getting too familiar with that elf, Bilbo. I don’t trust him.”

“I know you don’t.” Bilbo whispered, shaking his head. “But look how nice he was, coming to my rescue.” He joked, looking up at Thorin who simply glared in response. “Thorin, I-” Bilbo leant into Thorin’s face, resting their foreheads together. “You trust me, right?” 

“I do.” Thorin stroked through Bilbo’s hair. His braid had come undone ages ago, and Bilbo knew it might be a while until Thorin would rebraid it. He knew better than to think that Thorin would let any Mirkwood elf watch this sacred ritual of his culture.

“Then just- trust me on this.” Bilbo tried but Thorin’s face didn’t soften at all. This would be an uphill battle- and perhaps it was too much too soon; of Bilbo to ask Thorin to trust a Mirkwood elf like that. 

But it was a beginning. 

“I trust you, Bilbo. I don’t trust them, and the sooner we are out of this blasted forest, the better. The clearer I’ll be able to think. There’s a fog, and if you want to shine a little Hobbit magic on us, I’d be more than grateful.” Thorin said, laying down next to Bilbo. 

“Mhm, I wish. It doesn’t work that way, though.” The Hobbit sighed, closing his eyes. 

#

Another dreamless night passed, and this time, it wasn’t Bilbo who was looked at weirdly for talking to one of the elves, it was Kili.

“What was that about, Kili?” Thorin grumbled, letting Balin and Dwalin take the lead behind Tauriel and Legolas. 

Kili huffed, looking pointedly elsewhere than his uncle. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Uncle.”

“First Bilbo, now you. It’s something to do with this bloody forest. You are not to talk to her again, do you hear me?” Thorin said firmly, glaring at his young nephew. 

“Actually, Uncle, he wasn’t talking _to_ her, he was talking _at_ her. If that helps.” Fili turned around briefly while walking, smirking at his brother, then turned around again. Bilbo, walking next to Fili simply rolled his eyes. 

“Not helping, Fee. Besides, Uncle, she’s in charge of leading us out of this forest. Doesn’t it make _sense_ to talk to her? We are dependent on her after all, to get out of here.” Kili was grinning brightly. 

Thorin frowned deeply, “Yes, unfortunately we seem to be dependent on these _elves_ for the moment. Don’t catch feelings, Kili, you will not see her again after this.” He put his hand on Kili’s shoulder, “And if you, then she will be unchanged and you will be an old dwarf.”

Kili sighed, “Yeah, probably.”

Bilbo looked over his shoulder back at Kili and winked, when Thorin was looking away. Kili raised his eyebrows with a hopeful grin and Bilbo turned back around, gasping when he saw the first signs of the edge of the forest. 

“We’ve arrived!” Balin called out to the rest of the dwarves, and Bilbo’s ear drums surely burst from the sudden onslaught of voices crying out, the sudden mental fog lifted off of their heads and the dwarves rushed past the Elves into the clear sunlight. 

Bilbo, too, rushed past Tauriel and Legolas, reaching up towards the sun. It must be past midday, though the sun was still burning hot. It did not feel like the last week of autumn; last they had arrived in Laketown had been a few days before Durin’s day. It felt like they still had at least two weeks until that day. 

Tauriel turned to Kili and took off his bow and quiver, which she had carried on her back. “A dwarf with a bow. An unnatural sight, almost.” She quipped with no malice in her voice. 

“Yet it is such a glorious one, is it not?” Kili refitted his quiver on his back, holding his bow triumphantly in front of him. 

Tauriel said nothing else, but the small smile she gave him was all Kili needed.

The rest of the Elves returned the weapons to the dwarves, which further dragged out war-cries from the Company. Legolas, incredibly reluctantly, returned _Orcrist_ to Thorin, without a word but a stern look from Bilbo. 

The initial curiosity that Legolas seemed to have had for the dwarves when he first saw them was gone, replaced with a cold indifference. Bilbo did not wonder where this change come from, lamenting the fact that jealousy could turn a young heart sour. But if Legolas’ bitter expression at Tauriel’s smile at Kili was anything to go off of, Bilbo knew that perhaps this time around, the situation could become more tense than it already had been. After all, Legolas had not been so free with his emotions the first time around, always carrying a neutral expression. 

“Goodbye, Himdir.” Bilbo turned to the red-haired elf. “Thank you for your advice, and I’m sorry about Thorin last night.”

Himdir shrugged it off, “Goodbye, Bilbo Baggins. You’ve certainly brought some excitement back into the dreary life of a guard-elf.” He chuckled and nodded, when Tauriel called the Elves back in formation, Legolas ever faithfully by her side. 

Thorin huffed when Bilbo rejoined him, but before he could say anything, Bilbo held his finger up at him. “It’s not my feud, Thorin. So don’t get me involved.”

Thorin held his hands up, shrugging. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” Bilbo crossed his arms. 

“Aw, uncle, don’t fight with our favourite Hobbit.” Fili pouted, laying his arm around Bilbo’s shoulder. 

“Favourite? Do you know any other Hobbits?” Bilbo huffed in amusement. 

“No, but you’re favourite anyway.” Kili grinned brightly. 

Dwalin nudged his king, whispering something. Thorin nodded and rallied the dwarves all together, “We must follow the river into Laketown. I propose that we do not give away who we are just yet.”

The dwarves all murmured in agreement. 

“Aye. It feels good to be finally rid of the stench of trees.” Thorin nodded, and lifted _Orcrist_ towards the river. “Let’s go.”

Bilbo gave the forest one last look, then followed. While the journey through the Misty Mountains was an absolute disaster, at least the journey through Mirkwood went much better. Bilbo had to count his wins, to keep his mind calm and his heart brave. 

He wasn’t alone, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> erugalu- literally 'eru blessed'  
> sweldnien- literally 'crying heart'
> 
> whew. finally out of mirkwood. only took us about four chapters??? okay onto LAKETOWN!!! 
> 
> (Thank you everyone for the lovely comments over the past month; it's been a while since i have updated, it's true. I've been really focused on my original story as well as some other irl experiences that have happened in the meantime so I've not found a lot of time for writing this fanfic onward. But not to worry! My impromptu hiatus is now over; and i shall continue to finish this fic in the next three weeks or so. Today's the 27th July, and so the next chapter will be up on the 2nd August 2020. Thank you thank you thank you for continuing to support me at my own pace, and i have not forgotten about this fanfic, i have the ends all planned out. So I will see you again on sunday ;) <3)


	8. It's Always Been You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly there was a commotion at the back and Guards pushed through the crowd to reveal the Master of Lake-Town, a big, burly man with thinning hair and a thick coat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ThAnk you everybody for your patience and your comments- they mean the WORLD to me. <3 <3 <3 
> 
> I had a big hiatus in which a lot happened but now i am able to focus again more on this fanfic and bringing it to completion! Only two more chapters to go!!!!!!

Once out of the forest, Bilbo did not look back. 

It had been a strange experience the first time, and it was still just as strange the second time around, though now Bilbo felt he could rest a tad easier. After all, Thranduil had vowed to give him his aid when the time came. That had to count for something.

The Lady Yavannah had saved him from the spiders, when he - though he hated to admit it- had been so dearly tempted by the Ring. Though the Ring was just as addictive as it had been in his last life, it was nothing in comparison to the Light of Yavannah, which helped him regain the feeling of his left hand. 

Though, this time around, they did not ride the barrels out of Mirkwood, instead, they followed the river on foot. Instead of a single line, the dwarves spread and fawned out, a small crowd almost, singing and shouting. 

“Never thought I’d see the day where dwarves would thank Mahal to see the sun again.” Bofur laughed heartily, stuffing his face with some lembas bread. 

This, too, must count for something. Instead of the starving, wet, unarmed dwarves, they had plenty of food, dry clothes and all of their weapons. The morale was just as high as it had been in the beginning of the journey, each dwarf had a decent amount of hope and a decent amount of fear to keep them tethered to the ground. 

“Me neither. Does Mahal ever answer?” Bilbo asked, looking over to where Gloin and Dwalin were raising their axes, shouting and waving their arms. 

“Not to me, he hasn’t. Some claimed to have a divine connection to the Gods, but none could prove it.” Bofur looked at him warily, pursing his lips. “You got some funny stuff about you, Bilbo. What about ye Hobbits? Any contact with your maker?” 

Bilbo raised his eyebrows, trying to suppress a smile. “Just a few lucky ones, I suppose.” He shrugged, trying to keep his answer vague. “I consider myself lucky a fair amount, you know.” He made eye contact with Bofur who had raised his eyebrows high. 

“Aye, so would I. Would explain a fair lot, wouldn’t it?.” Bofur nodded, hands on his belt, and with a slight smile. Bilbo knew that while he wasn’t alone in the fight against Sauron and the ring, it was a comfort knowing he wasn’t alone in the Company. 

Though this would be a test of friendship that Bilbo hated to put them through; it would all come down on Thorin’s shoulders and whether Bilbo would need to betray him again. If he did, then he could not ask anyone to choose him over their King. The more Bilbo thought about the future, specifically to do with Thorin, the more uncomfortable he grew. Their relationship was so much more complex and more emotional than it had ever been. 

They looked ahead, to Thorin and Balin, who stood at the edge of the river, talking quietly while the other dwarves were still singing and dancing all around them. Bofur went to join his cousins, laughing merrily, choosing to indulge in their hope for once. 

It was the free air, surely, that lifted the spirits of the dwarves so high. Though whether it was just the free air, it was hard to tell. It could also have been the lack of elvish companions or the lack of a mystical, dark forest. 

Thorin looked back at Bilbo, a sweet smile gracing his lips and his hands open. “Bilbo- come join us! We have much to discuss.” And Bilbo, slave to his heart, raced towards him, eager to clasp their hands together. 

“We must prepare for the eventuality that the villagers will not support us. It’s a miracle in and of itself that those Elves let us pass by- even helping us to their border!” Dwalin’s spirit was the only one who was not elevated with the sun on his skin and fresh air in his lungs. 

“It was not a miracle, Dwalin, but my very fine diplomatic skills. You should have seen me in there- You should have seen us in there.” Thorin had stopped walking, and his words surprised Bilbo. Thorin in fact, was facing Bilbo now, taking the Hobbit’s hands in his own. 

“I know you were in there too, Bilbo. I won’t ask how or why, I think it wise you tell me when you need to. It was only for your presence that I kept a clear mind.” Thorin confessed in a sudden burst of truth, his eyes boring into Bilbo’s; then suddenly looking down in shame. “I- I must admit to both of you that my thoughts have been dark as of late. Shrouded with the gem which has plagued my family for generations. I did not want to admit it, yet the forest brought it out within me.” 

Thorin reached out to both Dwalin and Bilbo, a shaky smile gracing his lips. “I am trusting both of you with these thoughts. I am trusting both of you to do the right thing, if my thought stray too far.” 

As soon as he had finished the sentence, Dwalin protested, shaking Thorin’s hand off of his shoulder and shaking his head fiercely. 

  
Bilbo stared at Thorin for a second, silent in his thoughts, then he sighed with the heavy burden on his shoulders; another added. 

“Thorin- why would ye say something like that? The right thing? I- what are you fearing? What do you fear so much in that mountain, what will happen to you?” Dwalin stumbled over each question with an angry tone, but beneath that was the truth. A truth Dwalin wanted to deny, but could not.

“At the beginning of the journey, I would not have admitted such thoughts. To no one, not even myself. You two have helped me in ways I can not tell you just yet but I will in the future. It is you two I trust with this because I know you two are the strongest in the Company. Not by body, but with heart. You will do what is right. Promise me.” Thorin grabbed Dwalin’s shoulder again and brought both of them into a small circle. 

Bilbo closed his eyes, but nodded. There was a small spark of hope inside his chest which Thorin had lit. “I promise I will do what is right by you and your kingdom. I appreciate your choice in sharing your thoughts instead of locking them away. I will help share your burden in any way I can, Thorin.” He opened his eyes and smiled brightly, hoping to convey a determined face, rather than relief. 

Thorin simply smiled back at the Hobbit then turned his gaze onto Dwalin. 

“Aye. Mahal will wonder what got into that thick head of yours to open up like that, but when the stone yields, the dwarf gets to work.” Dwalin shook his head with a chuckle, then brought Thorin in and rested their foreheads together. 

Thorin pulled back with a small smile, rolling his shoulders back. 

“I thank both of you. Especially you, Bilbo. It’s clear to me now that the only reason our journey has been going so well is that you have been blessed by the Gods. Invisibility, slaying spiders and orcs alike. That entire ‘healing the forest’ part that you think I missed.” Thorin started walking again and Bilbo and Dwalin followed instantly. 

Bilbo gave a shy smile, scratching the back of his head. He hadn’t been subtle, he knew that, he had thought that telling them about Yavanna’s blessing would have inspired a line of questioning he could not answer. 

Dwalin stared at Thorin with wide eyes and looked away, nodding slowly. “It’s you, isn’t it? There’s been something about you for this whole trip. I was mistrusting and judging- but it’s been you all along.” Dwalin levelled Bilbo with a stare. 

“Yes. It has.” Bilbo confessed. But it was all he said. If they weren’t asking questions on why he had a God’s blessing, he did not have to tell them. He hardly could tell them; he hardly knew himself why Yavanna chose his begging to answer. 

“I wouldn’t think to see the day in which you so gladly accept ‘Hobbit Magic’ to help your quest.” Bilbo said hesitantly, walking next to Thorin now instead of behind. 

“I know us dwarves can be pig-headed and we distrust anyone outside of our family, outside of our race.” Thorin looked ahead, watching the rest of his Company enjoy the walk. It was almost idyllic; the river flowing beautifully next to the small crowd of laughter and singing, all walking with renewed strength towards the distant, small town on the lake. 

Thorin continued, “And when we discovered your magic, our- my- distrust only grew. I felt confused, and unsure. How could I trust someone who hid their magic from me to save my home?” Thorin looked at Bilbo with a soft smile, taking Bilbo’s hand in his own. “But you’ve proven yourself over and over again. When I need you, you’re right by my side. You’ve shown nothing but love. A love that I didn’t understand.” He stopped walking. Dwalin pointedly started running towards Balin, eager to miss this conversation. 

Bilbo looked up at Thorin, holding his breath. Was this the moment he had been waiting a lifetime for?

“You’ve always looked familiar, Bilbo.” Thorin leant in, their faces unbearably close now. “It’s as if I’ve known you for decades. When I move one way, you move the other. I’d be a fool to look away from the dance we seemed to be locked in. In the forest, when I’ve felt so low and full of dark thoughts, it was you who helped me. It’s always been you.” 

Bilbo looked at him with wide eyes, mouth hanging open slightly. He could feel a couple of tears slide down his face, overcome with emotion. He would have loved to have known this Thorin in his last life. But their relationship has changed; it was no longer an old Bilbo chasing after a memory of love. It was just Bilbo and Thorin now; locked together in a moment that was just theirs. It was a different Thorin; but it was also a different Bilbo. 

“It’s always been you.” Bilbo repeated, though the meaning was different than how Thorin meant it. It was a confession, all of Bilbo laid bare. He reached up, holding Thorin’s face in his hands. “It’s  _ always _ been you.” 

Bilbo had dreamed of how his confession would have gone; a thought that had plagued him in his wake and in his sleep- careless words would slip over his lips, an endless chorus of love, a promise of a future together, followed with kisses and whispers of love. 

He should have known that nothing could have prepared him for this. 

A moment of silence, of their eyes locked together with no escape, no long declarations with pretty words, no promises either couldn’t keep. Just four words. 

It was all they needed. 

Thorin was the first to let go, taking a deep breath and taking a step back but he did not look away. “You will not forget?” He asked, a quiet voice with a thousand different questions. 

“I will not forget.” Bilbo whispered, with a thousand different answers. 

Thorin nodded and started walking, quicker and quicker, to catch up with the rest of his Company, beckoning Bilbo to follow him. 

As if Bilbo could refuse him. 

#

The next problem arose when they reached the end of the river, splitting off into a massive lake. There were no boats, nor barges, no ferry. 

“Don’t suppose a little green magic could transport us into that town there, could it?” Bofur whispered into Bilbo’s ear with a chuckle. Bofur, Bombur, Bilbo, and Ori were all standing together, looking around for anything to help them cross the lake. The Company had split into little groups to search the lake’s edge. 

Bilbo narrowed his eyes at Bofur, pouting. “Don’t think it works like that, Bofur.”

“Worth a shot to ask.” Bofur simply shrugged, looking around for any sign of a transport possibility. 

Ori nudged Bilbo softly, with a smile, “You were in such a happy mood earlier, Bilbo, what happened?” The young dwarf asked innocently though he knew exactly what had happened earlier. Most of the Company, though pretending to be ignorant, knew exactly what had happened between Thorin and Bilbo earlier. How they knew was a mystery to Bilbo. Sure, after Thorin and Bilbo had caught up to the company, they had had a small break where Thorin had rebraided Bilbo’s hair, a new and different braid that had caused Bofur and Bombur to congratulate him later but that couldn’t be it- could it?

Bilbo rolled his eyes, nudging Ori back a little rougher than intended. “I’m still in a happy mood, Ori, I’m just a little hungry, maybe.” 

“It’s getting dark soon. And we’ve been walking for far too long, not even stopping for lunch.” Bombur mused, thinking aloud. “Would it be wise to keep on searching for a way to cross the lake without any food in our stomachs? We have plenty of time to get to the mountain, it’d be wiser to pause for the night.” 

Bilbo would agree whole-heartedly, his poor stomach rumbling in protest but just then, an all too familiar face appeared on the river, floating almost slowly towards the lake. 

“There- a bargeman!” Bilbo called out, not waiting for anyone else to see him before he went passed and refused them. “Let’s ask him for transport.” Bilbo reached out to Thorin, hands digging into his arm. 

Thorin nodded, mumbling something to Balin who took Gloin with him and approached Bard the bargeman, waving at him. 

The dwarves had all stood close together in a small crowd as evening hit, the air becoming crisp, moist and cool. Where the dwarves earlier had almost been euphoric, now they were a little more subdued, a little more humbled, even. 

Thorin watched from afar as Bard stopped, looking at Balin and Gloin with a grim look on his face. 

“Do you think he’ll take us into Laketown?” Kili appeared next to Thorin, almost out of nowhere, with Fili attached to his younger brother. 

Thorin didn’t even flinch, “Most likely if Balin offers to pay him enough. The people of Laketown are not going to give us help for nothing in return.” Thorin sighed, putting his arms around both of his nephews. “Most likely they will find us out and we’ll have to negotiate a piece of wealth away.”

“Ah, I would have thought that so many dwarves, covered in weapons, would be more auspicious to Man.” Fili rolled his eyes, sighing. 

“It’s just the business of having neighbours and allies. Allies are rarely made out of personal favour and the good will of people- there has to be a bargain made for both sides.” Thorin continued, “This will become familiar territory to you, Fili, once you’re king.” He said almost entirely too casual for anyone’s liking. 

Bilbo, Fili, and Kili all stared at Thorin with frowns and raised eyebrows. 

“Uncle, don’t even start talking about that. That will be decades away!” Fili protested. 

Kili as well started, “You will be King Under The Mountain, Uncle, and for a good while! You won’t give up so early, will you?” 

Thorin sighed, hushing both boys, suddenly so very young despite all that they’ve been through. “There will be a time when I am no longer King of Durin’s Folk. A good leader will ensure that his successor will be capable and wise. You both know this.” 

Bilbo simply leant against Thorin, watching as Gloin exchanged a small purse of coins with Bard and wave at the rest of the company to come over. 

_ He knows he is weak. He cannot remain as King of Erebor. _

The cold voice filled Bilbo’s heart, a dark reminder of the future yet to come. 

Bilbo chose to ignore it. Instead of answering and indulging the Ring to more access to his heart, he followed Thorin and waded through the edges of the river to climb onto the barge. 

“Your companion claims you all to be travellers from the Blue Mountains. You’re all dressed well enough to be so, though I wonder why you don’t have your own caravan. I heard dwarves usually travel with one.” Bard said, looking extremely exhausted. 

Bilbo climbed up onto the barge, settling onto the far side of the boat next to Bombur and Bofur. 

“Aye, usually that would be the case. We are not enough for such a caravan however, especially in these uncertain times. We’ve crossed many threats on our way here.” Thorin called out, “We were escorted to the edge of the forest though it became clear to us that it would be much quicker to go through Laketown instead of around.” 

“Aye, it would. I can take you to the Gate of Laketown, but once you’re there, you must talk to the Master of Laketown. He will be curious to see your company, and will be excited to see what kind of merchants you are. In case you will be able to trade on the market. Though you appear to just carry travel provisions and weapons.” Bard called out, and set out once the last dwarf had climbed up on the barge. The barrels on the barge were all sealed tight, shuffled together towards the front. This time, there were no marks of battle on them. 

“Aye, we did not intend on selling and trading much on the road.” Thorin simply stated. 

Bilbo nodded, it was a fair enough story. And now, that they weren’t being hunted by the Elves, they had no need to sneak into Laketown. 

_ Do not forget about Azog. _

The Ring whispered in the back of his mind and Bilbo shivered slightly at the thought, looking back at the forest. Azog was still after them, though they had not seen him for a while. That wasn’t out of the ordinary. Though Bilbo later found out, Bolg had tracked Fili and Kili to Bard’s house- though that would be different too now. 

Kili wasn’t infected with a poisonous arrow, this time around. That thought gave Bilbo some more strength and he walked over to the young dwarf, giving him a quick hug. He wouldn’t be left behind, this time around. He and Fili would be with them, as well as Bofur and Oin. 

Kili smiled at the sudden show of affection, hugging him back. 

“And you? You’re not a dwarf, are you?” Bard called out to Bilbo, who was sitting with Kili on the steps of the Barge. 

Bilbo stood up, turning around and looked at Bard with a small smile. 

“My name is Bilbo Baggins of Bag-End and I’m a Hobbit from the Shire, far, far west.” Bilbo introduced himself, bowing slightly. “What’s your name?”

Bard took in this information with a curious look, “I’m Bard, bargeman and Captain of the Town Archers.” He bowed his head slightly. “It seems a good sign to see you on this day. Every day of the last week has been misty and grey, however tonight is a blue sky with clear winds.” 

“It seems to be a good sign indeed.” Bilbo nodded, properly looking around now. 

The lake seemed quiet, a deep blue colour spreading all around them. In the distance, Bilbo could make out the shapes of ruins of a city made of stone. He knew behind that lay the city of Laketown, purely made out of wood. 

It was still shocking to see the ruins up close.

Dwalin grumbled to himself, when Bard started navigating through the ruins of the city. “So what did you have to promise him to carry us?” He huffed at his brother Balin, who stood at the side of the Barge and looked eagerly around to view the ruins. 

“Oh, not that much. It was settled between me and Gloin. Look-!” Balin gasped loudly and grabbed his brother’s shoulder, shaking him. “It’s Erebor!”

At the mention of their home, each dwarf turned and stared at the Mountain in the distance, standing tall and proud with a gorgeous, crisp blue behind it. It was a much better view than they had last time; a sign of good things to come, as Bilbo took it, even if they were early. 

Thorin smiled brightly, standing close behind his nephews and putting his arms around them. 

Bard noticed this gaze of wonder they all seemed to have, as Bilbo peaked at the bargeman. He could have guessed that the dwarves would abandon all attempts at subtlety as soon as they spotted Erebor. 

He walked back to the step beneath Bard and sat down, pretending to yawn. 

“Awfully excited, they are.” Bard huffed to himself, navigating them away from the mountain and towards Laketown. 

“Who wouldn’t be? Erebor was so important to the dwarves. A tale of gold and dragons; it’s enough to look in awe at the mountain for us travellers. Never been this close to such a historical place before.” Bilbo noted as they steered away from it, looking wondrously at the mountain, hoping to steer Bard in a different direction as well. 

“We’re almost there.” Bard simply noted as he steered towards the Gate of Laketown. 

“Halt for inspection!” A voice called out as Bard slowed the barge. A tired-looking man with pure white hair popped around the corner, waving his arms. “Oh- it’s you, Bard. Oh! And you’ve brought guests?” 

“Aye, so I have, Olaf!” Bard called out and paused the barge, taking out a piece of paper and handing it over to the man. “Merchants, travelling to the Iron Hills.” He simply said, leaning against the side of the barge. 

Thorin stood rigidly, ready to fight at any moment with Dwalin right behind him. Bilbo walked over, placing a hand on his back, hoping to appear more friendly rather than as a threat. 

Olaf glanced at them, nodding. “I imagine this will cause some excitement in the town. Where will youse be stayin’?” He asked them as he marked something down on the piece of paper Bard had given him. 

“Not sure yet. This stop was something of a sudden choice, if we’re honest. Any inns you could recommend?” Balin spoke up, smiling politely. 

Olaf shrugged, “The White Whale’d have the space for you all. Though I’m not sure about bed sizes. It’s been a while since we’ve seen dwarves in this region. Ah- I’m sure Bard will drop you off where you need to go.” He handed the paper back to Bard with a tired smile, “Good of you to bring some business into town, Bard.” He chuckled softly, as if he’d just told a joke. 

“Open the Gate!” Olaf called out, returning to his work station without another word. 

Bard simply nodded and went back to steer the Barge into town. 

Bilbo sighed in relief. The last time they had been here, they had been caught out by a man called Alfrid. He would have to look out for him, as well as the black arrow with which Bard had killed Smaug with. 

Bard led them down the river, as a crowd started to gather on the boardwalks, walking next to the barge and whispering excitedly about the Company. Most of the Crowd was made of children, giggling and pointing. Fili and Kili were waving at the kids, pulling faces, causing the kids to giggle even more. 

Thorin, though he was trying hard not to, was smiling softly at the show his nephews were putting on. 

Gloin and Oin on the other hand were sitting down on the floor with Bifur, grumbling to themselves about the disrespectful nature of Man to point as such. 

Bofur, Bombur, Ori, Nori, and Dori stood on the other side, just watching the town go by, waving to some kids but nowhere near as entertaining the crowd the way the princes were. 

Bilbo stood next to Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin, whispering. “We should find an Inn, split into groups, and find dinner. But we should make sure everyone knows the same story, if we’re going tell people we’re merchants.” 

Thorin nodded, “We should. I am hesitant to let our true motivations be known, lest they try and stop us from waking Smaug.” He whispered and looked ahead to where Bard was headed. It was a familiar sight to Bilbo, though by now a distant memory. It was where they had set sail without the princes, with a dark and disturbed Thorin who was going mad over the gold in the mountain. 

This time around, they arrived at the marketplace, docking the boat with a much more aware Thorin and both princes, uninjured and in great moods. 

A crowd had gathered around the dwarves, offering their help to get off of the boat- which most dwarves refused out of principle though the younger ones gladly accepted it, enjoying this much positive attention. 

Suddenly there was a commotion at the back and Guards pushed through the crowd to reveal the Master of Lake-Town, a big, burly man with thinning hair and a thick coat. 

“Welcome, dwarves. I am Torwald, Master of Esgaroth. I have heard whispers of your arrival and thought to myself- I must see these dwarven merchants who have come from afar!” He announced joyously, waving his arms in the air. 

Thorin nodded and looked towards Balin to answer. 

“O Master of Lake-town, we thank you for this warm welcome. It is true, we hail from the Blue Mountains and are simple merchants, just passing through to see our kin, dwarves of the Iron Hills.” Balin cried out ceremoniously, bowing to Torwald and nudging the rest of the dwarves to do so as well. 

“Ah, simple merchants or not, such a sight must be celebrated. It is said after all, that when the dwarves return to Esgaroth, that rivers of silver will flow!” Torwald quoted incorrectly- but it had the intended effect. The crowd went wild, cheering and crying out for the dwarves to bring silver.

“That is a kind and foreboding saying- however, we are loathe to admit that we do not carry so much silver with us. Just enough to travel to the Iron Hills.” Balin continued, his voice loud and powerful. Bilbo was impressed at the way Balin was handling the crowd, and as soon as he looked at Thorin’s face, he knew Balin was doing a wonderful job. 

“Nonsense- we shall celebrate, anyway! Just you wait, I bet, with your travelling there will be silver to be had! You shall be my guests of honour for the time being; only the best for our dwarven guests! A feast will be prepared!” The Master was shouting now more to the crowd rather than the dwarves, waving his hands in the air again. The crowd was thrumming with excitement, shouts for ale and beer going all around. 

“Follow us back to the palace.” One of the guards said, allowing the dwarves to follow them through the crowd. 

Bilbo turned around, desperate to say something to Bard suddenly, but the Barge was already headed away. He’d have to sneak out later or catch Bard the next day to talk to him again. 

Thorin took Bilbo’s hand, tugging him along. He turned his head back at the Hobbit who was stumbling through the crowd and smiled, “Don’t get lost now, Bilbo.”

Bilbo smiled softly back at him, squeezing his hand.

“I won’t.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made a playlist for Thorin and Bilbo in this chapter- it's very specific to this chapter, especially the 'It's always been you' moment if you want to have a look at the vibes for this moment: 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLn1Rc9OzJVNQnCB44eJZ-i_ghvByaM6Oe  
> as always, follow me on instagram at pallalalo for hobbit doodles specific to this series (i will start drawing more from this chapter as well and posting in on there!)
> 
> edit: okay okay i've been really bad with updating and for that i do apologise <3 <3 i can't even say that stuff was happening its just ive been feeling really down lately and i've lost a bit of passion for writing this fic if i'm honest but i've taken another break and I really want to get this fic done. reading all of your comments brings me such joy and i hope that i bring a bit more joy to all of you with this series. 
> 
> i also just wanted to say that this fic started back at the beginning of the year when i rewatched all of the extended editions of the movies with my best friends and the ending left me sobbing as it always does and I just wanted some feel-good magical adventures with mainly positive journeys and just everything going right for once- and as the year progressed the need for this kind of fic grew within me so I do definitely want to finish both this fic and the fic for the third movie before the end of the year. 
> 
> thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your patience and kindness. <3 
> 
> next update: 30th August


	9. Captain Bard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo did not answer. The Ring had pierced to the very core of the Hobbit with such a blunt question. There must be truth to it. There had to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interlude: this chapter....took a lot more effort than I thought. I also thought I'd be finished with this fic by now cause i had a whole schedule but then so much stuff happened and I honestly don't even have a good excuse, just that time went away from me. I have been working on an original project though the past couple of months, so the time has not been wasted because I feel like I learned more about writing (I'm also taking a creative writing course). 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, commenting, bookmarking, and giving kudos to this fic. 
> 
> It shows me that people do care for this fic, that you guys want to see this finished. Thank you for that.

The feast at Torwald’s mansion was not an epic one- there were no great halls filled with people and light, there were no world-travelled bards regaling the crowd with their tales, and there were no musicians filling the air with melody. 

It was a small hall and though the Master of Laketown did not have a worm whispering into his ear in this world, there was still no shortage of greed and sloth within him. And so the halls were not filled with the people, hungry and desolate, who were joyously welcoming their guests, but it was filled with the dwarves, the Master and some of his Associates. 

Bilbo greeted this rather solemn feast with open arms, however, as it offered food and drink, which was enough for this small hobbit. He filled his stomach with everything he could reach, simply listening to his Companions talk to each other. They chose to speak in Common, both for the sake of Bilbo and the Master though the conversation never strayed far from what they were supposedly doing- visiting their families. 

“I cannot wait to see my poor, old cousin. It’s been a long while since I’ve seen him, and I bet he’s only shrunk since the last time I’ve seen him!” Balin laughed, throwing his head back and toasting with Dwalin with overfilled glasses of ale. 

Thorin huffed, shaking his head. “As have you.” The King in Exile chuckled, which caused a guffaw from the dwarves around them. 

“Look at ye, crackin’ jokes.” Dwalin smirked, after downing his ale. He was the only one who was close enough with Thorin to be able to tease him outright- and the other dwarves watched intently. 

“Aye, I’m not as stupid as you who doesn’t know a joke when it bites him on his nose!” Thorin suddenly laughed, also after downing his glass of ale. Bilbo looked up at him, grinning at his friend. A rare sight indeed, Thorin Oakenshield, filling the air with his laughter. 

Dwalin huffed, “Me? Ye can’t possibly mean me.” He shook his head, waving his glass, hoping someone would refill it with more ale. “I’ve  _ always _ been the funny one- out of us two.  _ Always _ . Bite  _ me _ on the nose? It could slap yer kingly face and you would try and wrestle the joke!” 

There was a gasp and huff somewhere in the noise, everyone waiting to see what Thorin would reply to this sort of behaviour. None expected him to laugh even louder, slapping the table as if Dwalin had told him the funniest joke he’d ever heard. 

“You? The funny one? You fail to even form a complete sentence in the presence of an impressionable company, I’d think you had been dropped as a babe!” Thorin grinned madly, and whether he was drunk off of the ale or the good mood that had clung to them, Bilbo could not tell, for he simply watched. 

Bofur nudged his leg, whispering suddenly into Bilbo’s ear. “Try not to look  _ too _ smitten with him. It wouldn’t do him any good for his head to grow any bigger.” 

At which Bilbo’s face heated up instantly, turning towards Bofur to dispute him, but stopped when he saw Bofur’s expression. His friend was grinning at him, chuckling even. 

Bilbo simply grew redder in his face, stuffing his face with potatoes instead of answering. He didn’t know how much their Companions knew- it’s not like he and Thorin sat down together and discussed all of their thoughts and feelings. He could guess, though, that their friends had observant minds. 

“This isn’t what I would call a grand feast.” Bofur continued, ignoring Bilbo munching on his potatoes. “But to see Thorin like this, I think, makes it a good feast.” He toasted the air, then downing his ale as well. 

Bilbo looked away from Bofur and back at Thorin- who had just made another joke at Dwalin’s expense, but was looking at Bilbo with the softest smile he had ever seen on the King. What else could Bilbo do, except smile back at him with what he hoped was an equally soft smile.

Someone along the table had started singing, an old dwarfish drinking song roughly translated into Common, and soon enough, the entire Company (except for Bilbo) sang along, loud and proud. Bilbo clapped along, laughing, caught up in the mood of the evening. He was too busy basking in the song of the dwarves to notice the disgruntled look on Torwald’s face, nor on the shadowy face of the Captain of the Town Archers, Bard. 

  
  


#

It was later that evening that Bilbo realized he would have to change Fate once more. While he had already changed a significant amount of events, he knew he was not done. The Goblin King was still alive, Yavannah had healed parts of the Greenwood, the Elves knew of his connection to the Valar, he had saved Thorin and his nephews a lot more, but he realized he had grown just a tad complacent. 

He realized this the moment when the music had started, some staff of the Master’s household had improvised at the behest of Fili and Kili and started with a Lute and an improvised drum. When Thorin had offered to dance with Bilbo and the two had started, a lively dance to an unknown song. Bilbo was lost in the moment, so filled with joy and happiness that nothing else existed but this moment. 

When Thorin set Bilbo down from twirling and he dipped the small Hobbit, and Bilbo accidentally made eye-contact with Bard, who was looking at them with a slight sneer from the shadows. Thorin brought Bilbo back up, laughing so beautifully that Bilbo felt tears sting his eyes. He wished he could have this for eternity, the sound of Thorin’s laughter in his ears and his eyes blinded by his smile. 

“Excuse me for a moment, Thorin.” He whispered, smiling softly. “I think I need some air. Don’t stop dancing without me.” 

He held Thorin’s forehead against his, their noses brushing slowly. Thorin sighed but nodded, letting go of his Hobbit and Kili filled his spot, the dance changing into a quick step, the dwarves moving in a familiar way around each other. 

Bilbo moved away from the lights, into the darkness of the night and into the cold air of autumn. He waited inconspicuously, leaning on the porch of the Manor. He could hear the faint music, nodding his head along to the tune, pulling his coat tightly around himself. After a few minutes, he was less sure of himself. 

Was Bard not waiting to ambush him with his questions?   
  


“As Captain of the Town Archers, it is my responsibility to ensure the town’s safety.” Bard’s quiet voice appeared behind him. Bilbo did not turn around, looking towards the Lonely Mountain, instead. 

“It means that I am wary of dwarves when they come to town, seeking to come through here with lies about their destination.” Bard said simply, leaning against the pillars of the porch next to Bilbo. “Especially when their faces are well known for their royal lineages.”

Bilbo looked up at Bard with narrowed eyes. “And you choose to speak to me about your concerns?”

“You’re not a dwarf. Less thick-headed, I’d imagine.” Bard leant forward, eyebrows pulled down in concern. 

“I wanted to speak to you as well, Captain. About a descendant of a great Archer with a great black arrow.” Bilbo spoke confidently, meeting Bard’s eyes. 

His words took Bard by shock, the man took a step back and looked away from him, frowning deeply. 

Bilbo held his hands up to calm the man down before he panicked and attracted more attention, lowering his voice, “A great Archer who did not miss, but opened up a weakness in the dragon’s armour.” 

Bard shook his head, leaning in as well. “How do you know this?!” He demanded with a quiet voice, though his voice was shaking. 

“You are right to worry, Captain Bard. The dragon is not dead, and your city is vulnerable.” Bilbo whispered, looking around to make sure they were alone. 

Bard’s expression twisted in anger and indignation, his nose twitching and he shoved a finger into Bilbo’s chest. “You’re planning on waking that infernal dragon and endangering us all- for that, that  _ treasure _ -”

Bilbo frowned, putting his hand over Bard’s mouth and shushing him. “Not for the treasure. For a home.” He said simply, his eyes soft and his words barely whispered. “The dragon will wake, regardless of our choices. He will not sleep eternally, you know this.” He improvised a little, “I know you don’t trust me, you have no reason to. But the dragon has a weak spot, and we will succeed in killing that dragon. But we cannot do it without your help. We cannot kill Smaug without the Black Arrow.” He finished his speech, still covering Bard’s mouth with his hand. “I’m going to let go now. Please don’t panic.” He whispered, taking his hand off of the man. 

Bard took a few steps away from Bilbo, silent. He looked away from Bilbo, looking over the town for a few moments then turned to Bilbo, about to say something when the small Hobbit held up his hand. 

“Though I fear for what you will say, know that I carry the well-being of this town with me. I have not lived in this town, I can see that you suffer. That suffering can end with the death of the dragon.”

_ And the death of your dwarf. _

The cold voice of the Ring rang clear in Bilbo’s mind. It was so loud that for a second, the Hobbit feared that Bard had heard the words too. 

He hadn’t. 

“And you can promise this?” Bard asked after a moment, his hand clutching at the front of his coat. Was it the cold air that caused Bard to clutch his coat tighter around him, or was it something else?

“I vow on my life.” 

  
  


#

  
  


Though Bilbo had perhaps let himself dream a little more than he should, the worries he felt crept back up. 

Another song, another drink, another dance. 

That was how the evening should have gone by.

And it did, for the other dwarves. 

Bilbo now stood in the corner of the hall, nervously fiddling with the buttons on his coat while watching the crowd dance. 

_ You should warn them of their deaths. Warn them! You think you can save them, go on, tell them! _

Bilbo physically took a step back, surprised at the sound of the Ring. His hand flew to his pocket, pressing the ring deeper into the cloth. 

**Leave! Do not speak to me again! Your words are treacherous. I will not trust you again, when I have the Lady Yavannah to protect me!**

_ You say that, but will she protect you to the end? When my master returns and there is no where left to run? _

The Hobbit turned away from the festivities, into the building where the Master of Laketown had given them rooms to stay in. Bilbo had naturally assumed he’d be staying with the Durins, a thought that had been mirrored by his newfound family. 

**She has not given up on me yet. I will prove to her I am a Champion of Yavannah.**

_ That has a nice ring to it. Is there any truth to it? _

Bilbo did not answer. The Ring had pierced to the very core of the Hobbit with such a blunt question. There must be truth to it. There had to be. 

Though the night was still young, he took off his coat and hung it on the back of the door. The room was filled with two men-sized beds, one to share for the brothers, and one to share between Thorin and Bilbo. 

When had they become comfortable enough to share a bed? Bilbo wondered quietly as he crawled into it, curling up with the heavy duvet. As soon as he stretched his body out, the enormity of the day hit him. 

These next few weeks were critical for the world, and its history. 

For thousands of lives present and future. 

For Frodo, specifically. 

Bilbo eyed his coat with narrowed, sleepy eyes. The Ring seemed to taunt him still, though he kept it far from his body now. 

Finally, though, his eyes closed completely and he fell into a deep slumber. 

He woke again when the others came to the room, loud though they tried to be quiet. “Shh, you’ll wake Bilbo-” and “why did Bilbo go to bed so early?” were whispered around and Bilbo looked up just as Thorin set aside his weapons and coat, leaning towards Bilbo. 

“Can I sleep here tonight, or do you wish me to sleep over there with my nephews?” Thorin whispered, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. 

Bilbo moved around slowly, creating more space for the other man to lay down. If he were more awake, perhaps he’d be more excited about the prospect of sharing a bed with Thorin. For now, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

It didn’t take long for either man to drift off, curled around each other without touching. 

Dreams were short and fleeting, Bilbo kept waking up, curling more and more towards Thorin until he finally woke up in the morning, and the two had wormed their arms around each other. It must have been incredibly early. 

Thorin did not wake as easily as Bilbo had. Breathing slowly and steadily, he slept undisturbed. Bilbo could not look away from him though, placing his hand on Thorin’s cheek, he caressed his face softly. 

It was such a small moment yet Bilbo was sure he would not forget this in old age. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was also much shorter and a lot more self indulgent than I'm sure you all imagined (I'm sorry for keeping you all on your toes) but I realized I couldn't squeeze all of Laketown in one chapter, so two chapters. I might have to split the final chapter in two, so instead of the planned 10 chapters, there will be 12. we'll see.


	10. Bilbo Baggins, Meddler In Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It made Bilbo almost regret what he and Bard had planned for the next day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW okay first of all I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR STILL READING AND COMMENTING SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Thank you as well for your patience and understanding!!!!!!!
> 
> It's been a testing couple of months, and I am so happy that this fic series has helped so many of you, even if it's just for a few minutes of the day! It's a shitty time right now, for a lot of people, and really, it's why i started writing this fic a year ago, and a year later, things are still-- not great-- which is why this chapter specifically is a little more fluffy than anticipated. 
> 
> ENJOY!!!!!!!!

“I’m going to need that black arrow.” Bilbo muttered to himself, pacing outside of Bard’s house. It was the next day, the dwarves busy making their preparations. Too busy to notice if Bilbo took a bit longer on his walk. 

A cold wind blew, the dawn of autumn slowly creeping in. 

Bilbo tightened his coat around himself, tapping his foot against the wood on the walkway. While there had been calm in his mind, he now found the all too familiar panic settle in his stomach. It wasn’t just the impossible task ahead of him, if everything went to plan, it was more than that. This had been the beginning of something darker in Thorin. The mountain in front of them, the lure of the treasure calling to him. Leaving Kili and Fili behind. 

  
This day was not in his favour. 

First of all, he woke up with Thorin’s arms curled around him, and Thorin’s face pressed in his hair, as well as pressed entirely too close to be appropriate, and he had fallen out of bed with a red face and a stutter. Waking everyone up in his embarrassment. 

Second of all, he knew that the other dwarves knew entirely too much about his feelings for their leader of the Company. He just knew it, with the way that Bofur was smirking at him, and the way Ori was whispering to him excitedly. And, Bilbo prided himself on his patience and understanding, and so he did not tease Ori about Dwalin’s furtive looks towards the young scribe, nor did he say anything about Bofur exiting Nori’s chambers earlier that morning. 

He was a nice friend like that. 

Third of all, he was reminded of just about everything he still needed to do, and hopefully get everyone through alive, when the dwarves separated to re-supply, and Thorin summoned to a meeting. 

This was his chance, however, to get ahead of things again. 

Finally, he walked up to the front door, knocking twice in a row. The door opened a few moments later, and he looked up into the face of Bard, who narrowed his eyes at the Hobbit. 

“It’s you.”

“Yes.” Bilbo sighed, tugging slightly at his coat. “It’s me. I’m here to ask a favour of you.” 

Bard peered outside the door, as if he was searching for someone, then grabbed Bilbo by his shoulder, bringing him inside, and closing the door behind him. He locked the door, and covered his face with his hand, shaking. 

He looked tired. 

“I know what you’re here for.” Bard said, still covering his face with his hand. 

“You know what has to be done.” Bilbo was testing the waters of fate now, swimming out into the unknown, and making another change. This time, though, it was a direct change, something he knew would affect Bard. He knew not how, but if he could pull this off, the war would go very differently. Perhaps, and Bilbo was hoping dearly, this would be the positive change that would change the tide of fate. 

  
“I know. I brought it out for you.” Bard sighed, letting go of his face, and turning to Bilbo. “I fear that giving you this arrow is the wrong choice, Master Baggins. I had a dream.” He said, walking into the kitchen. 

Bilbo followed.

“A great shadow over Laketown. Unattainable, high in the sky. The town burnt.” Bard brought the black arrow forth, what he had hidden before. 

He held the black arrow as if it was the most precious item in the world. Perhaps it was. Gripping it tightly, he held it out for Bilbo to take. 

“You won’t be able to carry it like this through the town. People are suspicious, already.” 

“You still give it freely?” Bilbo took the heavy metal rod from Bard. It was double the size of Bilbo, perhaps taller, even. 

  
“The last time I dreamt of Smaug, he was flying over the city.” Bard looked down, pushing the small hairs out of his face that fell to the side. “Last night-” He huffed, letting go of his face, again. “It was his shadow. Yet it feels wrong to give you our only defense.”

“I vowed to you on my life, Bard. Smaug will not live to see Laketown burn.” Bilbo said, squaring his shoulders back. 

“Are you sure you want to give your life to this cause, Hobbit?” Bard frowned, eyeing the arrow up next to Bilbo. “To give these dwarves back their home? Risk our lives for this? The lives of my children?”

“You shall see, Bard.” Bilbo gave him a small smile, his confidence lacking but his pretense must have fooled Bard well enough. “The return of the dwarves will change your life, for the better.”

Bard nodded, sliding onto one of the chairs by the table. 

“Now. How do you propose I bring this arrow with me?”

#

Inconspicuous. 

A word Bilbo had aimed for many times over the course of this journey. Perhaps, this was the first time however, that Bilbo had prayed to not only Yavannah, but also her husband, Mahal. 

With no help of the Gods, though, Bilbo relied on the nature of his wit. 

Was it working?

Bilbo glanced around, walking as confidently as he could. 

There were glances thrown towards him, curious eyes as they had never seen a Hobbit before. No glances were spared as to what he was carrying. 

Bard had managed to cover the black arrow with more staffs, wrapping them tightly around the black arrow, tossing out comments such as, 

“Dwarves! You never know what kind of equipment they think they need!”

Or 

“Mountains! You’d need a hundred walking sticks to get up there, I reckon!” 

Did it work? 

Bilbo knew he looked mighty suspicious. But his smile never failed to subdue the human folk; he knew they saw him as something close to a child, whether they knew his true age or not. It was his size, and his smile, it echoed deep inside them, reminding them too much of their own children. 

Usually, Bilbo loathed this. And so, he cherished the absolute one time it became an advantage. The black arrow was heavy, and the top was much sharper than the rest of the staffs. If anyone looked too closely, it would become obvious what Bilbo was hiding. 

Returning to the rooms that the Master of Laketown, Torwald, had given them, he found them to empty. Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, Fili, and Kili had been invited to have lunch with Torwald, something which Thorin had asked him to attend. 

It was very likely that Thorin did not believe the excuse he had given. 

At this point, Bilbo could not remember what he had said, his poor Hobbit heart was beating too loudly to think properly. 

The others were either in the market, resupplying their bags with food, and other goods. 

Bilbo stopped walking, clutching the sticks to his chest, they were nearly double his height. He stood in front of his room- the room he was sharing with Thorin, and his nephews. 

How would he hide the black arrow?

He felt the absence of his left pinky finger dearly in this moment, his left hand curling around the tightly packed sticks, and he let the sticks slip slightly through his hands, leaning them quietly against the wall of the hallway. 

Should he hide the black arrow?

Bilbo looked up, the tip of the arrow peeking out beneath the wood. Laketown had been destroyed, torn into the lake below through fire and the corpse of the drake. It had been a terrible loss, before winter set in, of a people displaced once more, who took refuge in the mountain, and re-built their home in the years to follow. 

But was this loss written into fate? 

Did it need to have happened?

_Planning again?_

The cold voice spoke again. It would burn a hole in Bilbo’s jacket, if it could. He ignored it, opening up the door to his room, and carrying in the bundle of sticks. He hesitated, letting his hands rest on the bundle. 

Gollum was dead. 

The Goblin-king was alive. 

He had healed part of Mirkwood, and had a Vow of Aid from Thranduil Oropherion. 

What was one saved city, when so much has changed already?

A feast in Laketown, a welcome by Torwald. 

He would be alone for a short while, still, and he took this moment to sink to his knees, leaning his forehead against the bundle of sticks. The tension in his body seemed to melt away from him, he was already so much further than he thought he could’ve made it. His heart belonged to Thorin, it always had, yet he found a deeper understanding of the dwarf. 

“Bilbo?” A deep voice asked softly, and Bilbo would recognize that timbre anywhere. “Are you alright?”

Bilbo looked up, smiling up at the dwarf, who leant down and offered a hand to Bilbo. 

“I am now that you’re here.” Bilbo took Thorin’s hand, letting himself be pulled up against the dwarf’s chest. “I was just getting something I think will come in handy for our Quest. But before I show you- I think it’s time you rebraided my hair.” 

Thorin raised his eyebrows, but gave him an equally warm smile. 

“And I think you should, for the sake of your poor Companions, tell me the meaning of the braid.” Bilbo burst out, his thoughts quicker than his inhibition. 

Thorin opened his mouth to say something, closed his mouth, then opened his mouth again. In the end, he smiled simply, curling his free hand around the nape of Bilbo’s neck, nodding. He led the Hobbit to the edge of one of the beds, sitting behind him. 

“What is it you were trying to hide with those staffs?” Thorin asked, combing through Bilbo’s hair with his fingers. 

“I know you’re trying to distract me.” Bilbo closed his eyes, and sighed. “But since it’s working, I’ll tell you something only if you give me what I need in return.”

“What you need?” Thorin whispered, rubbing his fingers gently along Bilbo’s scalp. 

“Yes.” Bilbo mumbled, clearing his throat, enjoying the touch far too much. 

“Alright. I will tell you.”

“And I will tell you this. I met the Captain again, and he told me something quite peculiar.” Thorin’s hands slowed a bit, still braiding, but Bilbo knew he held his attention dearly now. “There is this tale going around. Smaug had risen once, many, many years ago, to steal the treasure of Dale. He flew over Lake-town, though he did not raise his fire against them. But what the Captain had seen, instead, had been a scale, loosened.” Bilbo said slowly, relishing in how Thorin’s fingers quickened their pace, braiding Bilbo’s hair nicely together. Thorin let go of Bilbo’s hair once he was done, and Bilbo turned around, placing his hands on Thorin’s shoulders. 

“And I thought to myself, well, it could only be a tale. Surely, how could a man see high enough, let alone true enough, that he could spot such a weakness?” 

Thorin looked down at Bilbo’s hands on his shoulders, and back up into Bilbo’s face, raising one eyebrow. His own hands curled around Bilbo’s folded legs, and Bilbo tried hard not to look down. 

“But, let’s say, it would be true.” Bilbo sighed. 

Thorin looked, perhaps for the first time, disturbed. 

“Indulge me.” 

“Alright. If it were true.” Thorin growled roughly. 

Bilbo stood up again, walking over to the bundle of walking sticks, laying it down gently. 

“I-I found this.” Bilbo undid the walking sticks, and took the Black Arrow out of the bundle. He held it next to him. “I don’t know how your meeting with the Master went. If he agreed to give us weapons. If the others had more luck, if they were able to purchase more weapons, though this town did not give off the impression that they had weapons freely.”

Thorin stood up, and walked closer to the Black Arrow. Bilbo wished he knew what Thorin was thinking, for his face was entirely neutral, if a little angry. 

“This isn’t an axe, nor is it a sword. But if the tale is true, then that means we do have a chance, and the metal is strong enough, perhaps, to kill the beast.” Bilbo finished talking and Thorin took the arrow from him. 

He looked away from the arrow and at the Hobbit, his features changing. Instead of an angry frown, or even an incredulous stare, Thorin was smirking down at Bilbo. 

Bilbo would be lying, if he said, he wasn’t blushing anymore. 

Thorin laid down the arrow back into the bundle, tying it together tightly. He stood up, and grabbed Bilbo by his waist, lifting him in a twirl. 

“Bilbo Baggins- you astonish me every day!” He laughed, a hearty laugh from his belly, and set the gasping Hobbit back down, pulling him into a close hug. “I had thought it odd when you said you were going for a walk. Surely, the planks this town is made of could not give your Hobbit feet any true respite. And yet, here you were. Trying to find a weapon to kill the beast.” Thorin pulled away from Bilbo just enough to plant a kiss on his forehead. 

Bilbo wasn’t sure if he was alive still. 

“Did I die?” Bilbo mumbled, gazing up at Thorin with a deep frown. “Is this the after life?”

“What do you mean?” Thorin laughed, cupping Bilbo’s face with both hands. 

“I just- I never- you made this _noise_ -” Bilbo stuttered, “I thought you- but where did I-” His nose twitched again, and he pouted. “You’re happy?”

When Bard had mentioned this weakness to Thorin- in his last life- Thorin had been angry, dismissive. Had looked at the wind-lance with a terrible mix of rightful bitterness and a sorrow so deep, Bilbo hadn’t known anything of at the time. He had hoped that Thorin would have reacted positively, though he hadn’t expected him to laugh in such a way. 

“I know that the men of this town think Smaug to have such a weakness.” Thorin started explaining, his laughter fading. “I know what they say. The aim of Girion loosened a scale.” He shook his head, almost fondly. 

Bilbo stepped away from Thorin’s touch. 

“Are you- are you _patronizing_ me?” Bilbo gasped, staring angrily at Thorin. 

“Bilbo- Ghivashel-” Thorin raised his hands, waving them in a placating manner. Bilbo took great offense that _he_ needed placating. 

“Why would you- I was just suggesting- what did you just call me?” Bilbo stopped, dropping his angry frowned, and stared at Thorin. 

Had he heard him right?

Thorin had the decency to look away, to look down, and to drop his hands. 

  
Bilbo _had_ heard him right. 

But Thorin didn’t know that Bilbo knew a little khuzdul now- had heard how Kili spoke of Tauriel, and how he used the words ‘amrâlimê’ and ‘ghivashel’ (both then, and now). He had learnt just the tiniest bit of Gimli and Legolas- and how Frodo taught him just a few words here and there. 

Thorin was about to use an excuse, he was sure, and Bilbo had to seize his chance. Had to take this moment gifted to him with a bow, feeling the sudden urge to give in. 

He knew this would end in doom. 

No matter how it ended, Bilbo could not achieve his dream of living happily with Thorin, and Frodo, and Fili, and Kili. If they lived, he could not stay with them in Erebor, and they could not live with him in the Shire. 

Yet there was a large part of his heart that had just wept, rejoiced, really, that Thorin had declared him to be his Ghivashel. 

Even if he didn’t believe that Smaug had a weakness, even if he just went along with what Bilbo said to placate him. Bilbo would prove it to the stubborn dwarf-king, and he would ensure said dwarf-king would live to see the day that Erebor bloomed again. 

With all this sudden conviction and devotion flourishing inside Bilbo, he grabbed Thorin by his fur-coat, and kissed the love of his life. 

  
  
  


#

  
  


“I take it you know what that meant.”

Thorin and Bilbo were laying curled into each other, snuggled, on the bed they had shared last night. 

“I do.” Bilbo mumbled, nuzzling his face further into Thorin’s chest. 

Fili and Kili were snoring on the bed next to them, looking entirely their age with how they held each other. Fili, as the older brother, had his hand on Kili’s head, both surely as a means of protection and annoyance to the younger brother. 

“And I take it that whenever I call you that again, I can expect the same treatment?” Thorin whispered, and Bilbo could hear the grin in his voice. 

After Bilbo’s kiss, the two had been too caught in each other to see that Fili had been standing in the doorway for entirely too long. 

They had barely caught him before he could yell to the others about this new discovery about his uncle and their burglar. 

Bilbo looked up at Thorin, with narrowed eyes. 

“That would depend entirely on the manner and tone you were speaking to me. If you were to say that to me in front of the others, I might not. If you were to say that to me when gifting me a scone or two, then yes.” Bilbo teased him, fingers caressing Thorin’s stubble gently. 

This really hadn’t been how Bilbo meant for their stay to go- and though Bilbo probably had given into much more heartbreak than he did last time, he couldn’t say that it wasn’t worth it. 

It had only been a half-day of this. 

And yet, it had already been the best choice he had ever made. 

“Ah I see. The way to a Hobbit’s heart is through his stomach. Though this is not new information.” Thorin grinned, focused entirely on Bilbo. “I thought as much when we were in that elf’s home, and you were being charmed by their half-elf cook. With his baked goods.” His grin dropped ever so slightly, and Bilbo had to snicker. 

“Síledir?” Bilbo asked, and the way Thorin’s face changed, told Bilbo everything he needed to know. “Yes, I admit it. His work in the kitchen did indeed charm me.”

“Billbo, you tease me.” Thorin frowned, squinting at him through the darkness.

“I am.” Bilbo leant up to kiss Thorin’s cheek. 

The rest of the day had flown by in a hurry, as they were gifted armour and weaponry by Torwald, in a show of appreciation and investment in the future. They were to depart in the morning, gifted a boat as well, to cross the lake. 

It made Bilbo _almost_ regret what he and Bard had planned for the next day. 

“Things are going well. Almost too well.” Thorin said, though it was almost too quiet for Bilbo to catch. 

“Too well?” Bilbo whispered, letting his hand settle on Thorin’s chest. He had taken off his many layers, now laying simply in his breeches and his linen shirt. Bilbo could feel the warmth and the muscle through his shirt. 

All of a sudden, Thorin looked at him, and he had this look in his face. Bilbo wasn’t sure what to make of it. It didn’t look right on him, it was a look of fear, and panic, and sorrow. 

“My Bilbo.” Thorin leant forward, guiding the back of Bilbo’s head to lean against his. “You and Dwalin will keep me on my path, won’t you?” 

Bilbo blushed brightly at the intimacy, their legs rubbing against each other. It was getting too warm underneath the blanket. 

“Y-yes.” He whispered. 

Thorin let out a shaky sigh, his other hand curling around Bilbo’s shirt, sliding the material a bit higher, and settling his hand against Bilbo’s back. 

If Bilbo wasn’t bright red before, he definitely was now. 

What was Thorin doing?

“Thorin-” Bilbo breathed, closing his eyes. “You’re not alone in this Quest. You’re our leader, and we will follow you where you go. We will take Erebor together, and we will defend it against that beast.”

“And after?” Thorin breathed. “I’ve never allowed myself to think of what will happen after. Now I’m picturing my sister coming to live with us, leading the caravan of our people from the Blue Mountains. Grooming Fili to become King, and maybe-” Thorin pressed his lips against Bilbo’s cheek. “Just maybe seeing you every morning when I wake up in the King’s chambers.”

“Thorin-” 

“Is that too much to ask?” Thorin nodded slowly. “If we win this, if we survive this-”

“We will.” Bilbo growled. “We’ve come too far to die.”

Thorin let out a breathy chuckle. 

It was an addicting sound and Bilbo instantly wanted to hear more. 

Bilbo shouldn’t entertain Thorin’s thoughts of the future. It was not something Bilbo could guarantee him, and it would be cruel to promise him something he won’t be able to give him. 

But the words leave him before his brain can stop them. 

“I shall need a proper garden if I am to stay in the mountain.” 

Thorin pulled away from Bilbo, a blinding smile looking up at him. 

“I shall give you the most magnificent garden that any Hobbit ever had.”

Bilbo tried not to smile too brightly, rolling his eyes.  
  


“You do not know the depths of Hobbits and their gardens, then. You have some stunning gardens to top then.”

“And I will have them all built just for you.”

  
  


#

  
  
  
  


“Go now! With our goodwill and good wishes!” 

Torwald called out to them as they pushed off in the boat. 

They had all crammed in together to fit, Thorin stood at the front, his gleaming elvish sword at his side, a freshly donned red cape over his fur-coat, and determination set on his face. 

Bilbo sat in between Fili and Kili, the latter kept looking back from where they had come from the Greenwood. Dwalin had his arm around Kili, the four of them squished on the bench, whispering something into his ear. 

All of them were on this little boat, Bilbo had made sure of that. 

Last time, Bofur had overslept, Kili had been ordered to stay here to heal, Oin and Fili had stayed with him. 

Thanks to Thranduil’s aid, and Tauriel leading them safely out of the forest, Kili had not suffered a poisoned wound, therefore they had three dwarves more. 

Bilbo had made sure to waken Bofur before they left, chewing him out for drinking way too much. 

But it was the Company together that would be strong enough to face Smaug, each equipped with more weapons than they could wield, and the bundle of sticks tucked neatly into the boat, the Black Arrow perfectly hidden. 

Dare he say, Bilbo felt confident and righteous. He hoped he could get used to the feeling.

Torwald greeted them with a farewell, and Bilbo tried to spot Bard in the crowd. They had agreed at this time, and Bilbo was not disappointed when he spotted the Captain, stood directly opposite Torwald on the other side of the river. 

A scream indicated that it had started. 

“What is he doing?” Fili gasped next to him, turning his head greatly as they pushed off into the river, rowing strongly. 

The entire Company had turned to watch the people of Lake-town. 

It was chaos, and if one didn’t know what to look for, one didn’t know what they were looking at. 

Bilbo did. 

Leading a charge, Bard had gathered the crowd to his favour, taking over each guard with their makeshift weapons. 

“I might have let it slip about Torwald’s hoarding problem. Maybe about how they were talking about arresting Bard tonight.” Bilbo told Fili. “I think this is what they call a riot, or maybe even a revolution.”

“Bilbo Baggins!” Kili gasped, grinning widely in disbelief. “Did you incite an insurrection?”

Bilbo frowned, looking away from the dwarves that were all staring him down now. They were moving quickly onto the open waters, escaping the noise of revolution from behind them. 

“Absolutely not! I simply told Bard what he wanted to know. What he did with that information is not my problem.” Bilbo shrugged, feigning innocence. It was true, to a certain extent, that Bilbo had not part in this. A riot had been inevitability to the people of Lake-town, who were starving and shivering. 

He simply helped them with some information. 

It was up to Bard now, who he was sure was always destined to end up as a Leader of his people. Later in his life, he had become King of Dale, and together with Daín did he fight, did Bain the second King of Dale fight, and together with Barn did Daín die in the War of the Ring. 

It was in their blood to lead the people. 

“You love to mingle, don’t you, Bilbo?” Fili laughed, clapping the Hobbit on his shoulders. 

“I do not!” Bilbo protested, tempted to shove the crown prince into the icy lake. He looked up to gauge Thorin’s reaction, and the leader sent him a small smile, then turned to the others. 

“It matters not. We have one task at hand. We must reach the Overlook, and if Gandalf does not reach us there, we must reach the secret door in time! Onward!” He commanded, and the dwarves quieted down. 

They made great time, the lake completely undisturbed by the events of Lake-town, and allowing them to row quickly. 

Ori leant forward, nudging Bilbo. 

“You must tell me everything when we next rest. Absolutely everything.”

Bilbo grinned at him, “I will. This is history in the making, after all. Someone needs to record it, and I don’t think the people of Lake-town have the patience nor the will to stop and write down what is happening.”

Ori looked at him with a smile, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“I can’t believe you incited a riot. Right after our host sent us off with supplies, as well!”

Bilbo scoffed, “I did not incite a riot. You better not write that down.”

“I won’t, I won’t. You must have been greatly affected by the people of Lake-town to help them in such a way, Bilbo! You care so much!” Ori spoke with astonishment, and Bilbo knew that the dwarf was probably wondering why a Hobbit would care so much about a human settlement. 

It was true, there were certainly some selfish reasons involved when he helped Bard. How he knew dealing with Bard in the future would be much easier, and how this would increase his chances at helping Thorin deal with the dragon-sickness. 

On the other hand, it was both infinitely fairer on the people of Lake-town to receive the money that was stolen from them by Torwald, who refused to invest in the community and encourage businesses, but it was also to prevent the desperation that they would be in again. 

With no money, and no city, they had come to the Lonely Mountain for aid. 

If all went according to plan, then Lake-town would still exist to face the coming winter, and the people had at least something to tide them over until they received the money Thorin had promised them- and the trade. They could rebuild Dale in the years to come, out of a promise for a better future, not out of desperation and the loss of their homes. 

If it all went wrong, then it would all fall on Bilbo’s shoulders for having messed everything up completely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most likely, this will be an 11-chapter fic instead of a 12 chapter fic, but we'll see how long the ending will be, I might split it into two chapters, I might not. 
> 
> Y'all. Are. So. Amazing. <3 <3 <3 
> 
> I have planned the next fic almost completely, hopefull it won't take me this long to re-write the 3rd film as it has taken me to re-write the 2nd one, but we'll see. (Just so you know- this is going somewhere. I'm not abandoning this fic series, even though I went on a long hiatus.)
> 
> <3 <3 <3


	11. The Dragonslayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let’s kill the fucking dragon.” Thorin grinned, flashing his teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourselves.

Last time, they had trekked from the Lake up to the mountain in less than a day. They had set out in the morning, and reached the door just as the sun went down, finding the door in the moon’s light. 

This time, they were early. 

They still had a good few days before Durin’s day, almost an entire week. It had taken them four days from Greenwood, to Lake-town, to the bottom of the Mountain, nearing the abandoned city of Dale. They had distributed the walking sticks, and Thorin had claimed the Black Arrow, explaining to the others that it had been a weapon of Bilbo’s choosing, therefore it deserved to be carried until they met Smaug. 

“And so you were telling Bard what exactly?” Ori asked him, quill ready to write down whatever Bilbo would tell him. 

They were breaking for lunch, all hunched around Bombur’s pot of vegetable stew, desperate to enjoy the heat of the fire on the last days of summer. The nearer they got to the mountain, the colder it became, as if the tragedy of what had happened, sucked the warmth out of the air. 

Most likely, it was just the beginning of autumn creeping up on them. 

“I told them what I saw inside Torwald’s mansion. I didn’t think it was a secret, anyway. The man, if he had more wit about him, should have found better hiding places for his gold. I thought, if he had come about that gold honorably, then he had no need to hide it from the people.” Bilbo shrugged, “Especially when his own people are starving on the street, and he has enough to encourage and patronize all the businesses within his town.” 

He was huddling close with Kili, who was ignoring most of their conversation. Often enough, instead, he was staring off into the distance. Presumably dreaming of a red-headed elf. 

Bilbo hesitated, not quite listening to Ori’s following question. He wondered now, how Tauriel would find Kili again, now that she was not banished, and Kili was not dying from a poisoned wound. It seemed as if Kili was wondering the same thing, though Bilbo was sure, without the context of how they had met prior. 

“Bilbo?” Ori nudged him gently. 

Bilbo jumped slightly, shaking his head. 

“Sorry, Ori, lad, I- um- was just thinking-” Bilbo chuckled a bit, putting his arm around Kili, who was shivering a bit, despite the proximity of the fire and the two layers he had on himself. 

“I was just asking how you knew that you should talk to Bard. What made him stand out to you as leader of the people, compared to Torwald? We were there for such a short time, only two days. You must be an excellent judge of character.” Ori said, and if Bilbo didn’t know any better, he would have thought that Ori said all this in a tone of admiration. 

“I heard whispers.” Bilbo sighed, trying to come with an explanation that would make at least a little sense. Ori was asking all the right questions to expose Bilbo’s knowledge. Knowledge he really shouldn’t have. 

“Whispers?” Kili asked, looking up at him with big eyes. He must have been feeling the excitement too much yesterday, when they had walked up to the mountain. Now, he was leaning on Bilbo’s shoulders, sighing softly. 

“Whispers that Bard was making trouble. That Torwald needed to come up with a statute, to ensure the Bargemen weren’t allowed to ask questions.” Bilbo patted Kili’s head gently, making eye contact with Thorin who was looking at him over the pot of stew with a small smile, while he was still talking to Balin and Dwalin. 

Dwalin caught him, slapping the back of his king’s head, and when Thorin turned to growl at Dwalin, the other dwarf guffawed with laughter, and Bilbo was sure, with teasing, for Thorin blushed brightly. 

This caught the attention of every dwarf in the Company. 

Thorin never blushed. 

Bilbo looked at him with raised eyebrows, curious what Dwalin could have said to elicit such a reaction out of Thorin. 

Thorin, who was now wrestling Dwalin to the ground, shouting something in khuzdul. Whatever it had been, however, couldn’t have been cruel or angry, for Balin laughed loudly, clutching his stomach. 

It was like night and day, this Thorin who was laughing now with Dwalin on the floor, and the Thorin that had been single-minded when it came to searching for the door, careless in his tone. 

“And I thought that wasn’t right. Bard had seemed like such a sincere Man, that something was off. Honestly, I didn’t do much. Please don’t overestimate my doing in this. All they needed was a small push, a confirmation of Torwald’s greed.” Bilbo continued talking, though he was watching Thorin help Dwalin up again. 

He heard Ori’s quill scratch against the parchment, and the younger dwarf seemed satisfied for now. 

Thorin caught Bilbo’s gaze again, and smiled brightly this time, more proudly. 

“Just kiss already!” Bofur called out, from he was kneeling next to Nori, messing about with his knife that he was scraping against a piece of wood. 

Both Bilbo and Thorin instantly widened their eyes as Fili stood up, grinning widely, and opened his arms. Before he could open his mouth, however, Thorin cleared his throat.

“As you all know-” Thorin glared at Fili, until his nephew sat down, still smirking, next to Bofur and Nori. “I have been braiding Bilbo’s hair now for a while. And I have been a coward.” He declared. 

Bilbo felt his mouth drop in surprise. 

There was something different in Thorin, and Bilbo had thought it was the good circumstances that had brought them here, maybe even the new development in their relationship, but it was something else in Thorin. 

“Finally.” Kili breathed out. 

Thorin started walking around the pot, reaching for Bilbo, and helped the Hobbit stand up, pulling him close. 

“And I have finally told him the meaning behind the braid I put into his hair.” Thorin said, patting the braid in Bilbo’s hair. It had become routine between them for Thorin to take the braid out before they went to sleep, and for Thorin to re-braid it when they woke up. 

Last night, Thorin had shared his sleeping bag with him, putting his fur coat over Bilbo and ignoring every glance thrown their way. 

“ _Finally_.” Kili huffed, again. 

“Hush.” Bilbo mumbled, blushing as Thorin took Bilbo’s hand and kissed his knuckles. 

There was _definitely_ something different about Thorin. 

“And I wanted to make sure you all know my intention towards our Burglar.” Thorin looked around, and he got a round of smiles in return. “I know it makes little sense. This close to our lost home, to the source of our suffering. Our exile. I should feel anger, and sorrow.” He sighed, looking up at the Lonely Mountain before them. 

They all turned, to look at their ancestral home. 

“Yet I feel hope. I feel as if we are coming home, as if I am coming home, with my family. I could not have asked any better dwarves to come with me on this journey. We may simply be thirteen dwarves and a hobbit, nor the best or the brightest.” He said, looking at Balin, mirroring his words when they had been huddled around Bilbo’s dining table all those months ago. 

“Yet we have faced goblins, Azog, elves. We have done so- together.” Thorin turned back to Bilbo, squeezing his hand. “Thank you for following me. For believing in this quest. For when we are together, we are our strongest.” 

A moment passed, in silence. 

It had been a moment like this, when Balin had told them the tale of Azog the Defiler, when Thorin had stood against Azog in battle. When they remembered the proud lineage that Thorin possessed, the burden and duty that Thorin carried, but more than anything, that Thorin was their King, whether he held a kingdom or not. 

That Thorin had been robbed of his people, and forced to build whatever he could to protect them. 

That Thorin Oakenshield would stand again and again, and never falter. 

Bilbo swore he saw Fili tear up, though later Fili absolutely denied this. Kili on the other hand let out a weak cry of ‘Uncle!’.

It was certainly a lunch rest that Ori was writing down, with how Thorin Durinson had kept the morale high on their Quest, something that would lead into the myth of who the King under the Mountain had been. 

Thorin did kiss him on the cheek in front of everyone. 

Bilbo hoped that Ori would omit that part from his writings as well, but from the way Ori’s eyes were shining- nay, from the way every young dwarf’s eyes (and Balin’s eyes) were shining, Bilbo knew that there was no chance of convincing Ori to omit it. 

From the way Thorin was smiling down at him, he lost his train of thought pretty easily. 

  
  


#

They reached the overpass quite quickly. Too quickly. They were too early, much too early, to meet Gandalf at the city of Dale. 

“What should we do?” Ori asked Thorin, frowning down at the abandoned stone city. 

Thorin sighed, digging his sword into the earth. 

“We wait. If Gandalf does not join us in two days’ time, then we carry on. We must be at the door on the last of Durin’s light.” Thorin set down his pack, spreading out his sleeping arrangements. 

The others followed suit, setting up camp on the overlook of Dale, in a circle around Bombur, who was setting up his cooking station. 

Bilbo smiled softly at the scene, but he couldn’t look for too long at this. There was this itch inside him, that he indulged, but he knew he shouldn’t. 

He could see Ravenhill from here. 

Bilbo had been so worried with how Thorin would react, getting closer and closer to the treasure hoard that had corrupted his mind, so he had not thought how he would react when he saw the fields stretched out in front of him. 

The fields where they had won the battle, barely scraping by. 

He turned away from the plain that stretched out in front of him, and towards Ravenhill, letting his bag drop roughly. He could see the tower where Azog had held Fili on high, killing him in one fell swoop. 

He hadn’t seen where Kili had been killed, had only found Tauriel sobbing, clinging to his corpse. 

The waterfall was flowing nicely, creating an idyllic scene. When he had first seen it, he thought it had been one of the most beautiful landscapes ever. 

That was before the ice had taken hold of it, freezing everything in its path, and before he had held Thorin as he died in his arms, whimpering that the Eagles had finally arrived. 

As if the Eagles could have saved him.

His injuries had been too many. His stomach had been pierced too deeply, his foot lay in a puddle of blood, and the quickening paleness of his skin had signified the life leaving him. 

There was nothing Bilbo could have done to prevent the fate, only cling to him, and sob. 

He had never cried like that. 

Shaking, hyperventilating, Balin had to pull Bilbo away from Thorin’s corpse to allow for proper burial. It had been the worst moment of his entire life. 

First, it was Fili. 

Then it was Kili. 

And then Thorin. 

So brutally taken from him, through circumstance and death. Bilbo let out a weak sigh, falling to his knees, though he could not look away from Ravenhill. He clenched hands into fists, overcome with the need to cry, to find Thorin and hold him, to convince himself that it was not too late. 

  
This time he could save them all. 

_But can you save them all? You felt so confident, so brave, didn’t you? Maybe it was always destined that that cousin takes over. Daín. The pig-rider. And not Thorin. Perhaps Azog was always destined to end the line of Durin right here, right now._

The Ring echoed all around him, the voice climbing up his spine with ice cold fingers, and he felt as if it had been the shove he was scared of that finally pushed him. 

Tears pooled in his eyes, and he tried to blink fast to get rid of them before anyone could see them, but they slid down his cheeks, and he curled into a small ball. 

_It’s already too late. Things have been set into motion long ago, Bilbo Baggins._

He whimpered, his hands curling around his head, the panic rising in his chest. He knew, logically, that it was just his body reacting to trauma. He saw the aftermath of Frodo coming home, how certain memories could trigger him, and how his body would shake with violent movements. 

He knew that he was panicking, and Aglarhel was not here to calm him down with her magic. 

There were voices now around him, whispering quietly, panicking loudly, but he couldn’t focus on them. 

What was he going to say? He couldn’t explain it to them. 

He didn’t know what to say. 

He couldn’t say the words. 

Someone reached down to his hands, forcing them away from his head, and he let out another shaking cry. He rose from his knees, shaking violently, and the people surrounding him closed in. 

_Such a fool, Bilbo Baggins._

Thorin came into view, his face swimming in front of him, and Bilbo clung to it, grabbing it with his hands. He was alive. 

“I’m here, Ghivashel.” His low voice broke through the wall of noise, and suddenly there was dead silence. “I’m here. I’m not letting go. It’s okay, it’ll be alright.” 

Bilbo tried to breathe in slowly, taking in Thorin and his body, alive and breathing, he’s still warm, his hands roaming through his hair. It was smooth, and long, there was no blood, it was clean. 

“Fili and Kili- are they okay?” Bilbo whimpered into Thorin’s hair, his arms holding the other dwarf tightly, and he tried to put his legs around Thorin’s waist, clinging to him entirely now. 

He would be embarrassed if he had any coherent thought left. 

“They’re okay- they’re right here- Kili! Fili!” Thorin called out, supporting Bilbo’s weight with both hands, one hand placed around his thigh, the other around his waist. 

The two dwarves popped into view behind Thorin, both pouting at Bilbo’s puffy face. 

“Don’t cry, Bilbo, we’re okay-” Fili said, smiling weakly, and Kili reached out, squishing Bilbo’s face. 

“We’re so good. We are amazing.” The younger said easily, planting a kiss on the Hobbit’s wet cheeks. 

Bilbo nodded, taking in deep breaths. 

“We’re also okay!” Bofur popped in behind Fili and Kili, smiling warmly. “Everyone’s okay, Bilbo. Don’t you worry!”

Thorin was stroking Bilbo’s back now, sitting down on his own bed, but he didn’t let go of his Hobbit. 

“Don’t let me go, Thorin-” Bilbo mumbled when Thorin repositioned them. 

“I won’t, I won’t.” Thorin whispered, and nodded at Fili and Kili to sit down next to them. 

“Tell us later-” Kili started speaking but there was a thwack, and the younger one stopped speaking. 

Bilbo curled into Thorin, closing his eyes. 

_So suspicious, Bilbo. They’re growing very suspicious._

He shivered at the voice, and Thorin tightened his arms around him. 

  
  
  


#

  
  
  


The others were kind enough not to ask. 

_They probably don’t even care_. 

Bilbo tried his best to ignore the Ring’s slithering voice, echoing in his head.

Instead, he focused on the game of cards he was playing with Bofur and Nori. He should have known better, as Nori wiped him clean of any money he had left. 

“Stop cheating!” Bofur groaned after Nori wiped him clean, too. 

“Cheating? This is pure talent, Bo!” Nori huffed, shaking the cards in his hand. “It’s not my fault I am _innately_ talented.” 

“Innately, my ass.” Bofur huffed, but when Nori burst out laughing, smirking, really, Bilbo pointed a finger at Bofur, laughing too. 

“I knew it.” Bilbo grinned. 

Bofur blushed in response, slamming his cards down, and standing up to leave. 

“I knew it.” Bilbo turned to Nori, who was watching Bofur leave. “Oi.” He snapped his fingers in front of Nori’s face. “Stop ogling him. Do you want Dori to have a heart attack?” 

Nori looked over to his older brother, who was staring at him with quite a disapproving look. He simply raised his eyebrows at his brother, then nodded towards Dwalin, who was talking shyly to the scribe, who was writing something down on his parchment. That seemed to have worked, as Dori then turned his attention to protecting the youngest of the three Ri brothers. 

“Always so busy with protecting his younger brothers.” Nori sighed, packing up his winning, and shuffling his cards. “Doesn’t even notice his own admirer.” 

“Dori has an admirer?” Bilbo asked, frowning. He had not noticed this. 

“Oh yeah. A real subtle one. I think I’m the only one that’s picked up on it.” Nori grinned, quite proudly in fact. 

“What? Who is it?” Bilbo pouted. How could he have missed this? 

“No, I’m not telling. You’re going to have to figure this out yourself, man.” Nori huffed, “I have eyes of an eagle. I notice everything. I have to.”

“What are you going to be when Erebor is filled with dwarves? Are you going to help Dwalin keep everyone safe?” Bilbo asked. He knew that Nori would become the Spymaster, working in the shadows to protect the royal family where Dwalin could not operate. But he still liked to ask. 

“In a way, I s’pose.” Nori shrugged, “We’ll see what we call my role exactly. Somethin’ like-”

“Spymaster.” Bilbo grinned, and Nori tapped his nose once, smiling. 

“Exactly.”

And that is, mostly, how they spent those two days. They spent the time playing cards, which Bilbo managed to win some of his money back, telling each other stories, eating, and sleeping. 

When Bilbo woke up on the second morning, with Thorin protectively holding him, he knew that Gandalf had gone to Dol Guldur, and had been captured again. He would have met them otherwise. 

Thorin re-braided Bilbo’s hair again, gentle hands though his face was set in a deep frown. 

He had thought Gandalf would meet them. 

“We move onward.” He declared after they finished breakfast, still lingering in hopes that their wizard would join them. 

“But what if he’ll arrive around noon? We cannot be sure!” Someone called out, Bilbo wasn’t sure who, but Bilbo knew he wouldn’t. 

Thorin, it seemed, knew it too. 

“If he does, he shall join us on the mountain. He’ll be able to see us from here.” Thorin decided to placate his company instead, taking Orcrist from where he had placed it in the ground. “We only have today to open this door. If Gandalf had a kind of magic that could work around ours, he would have offered it at the beginning of this quest.”

And so, they went on, Thorin leading with Orcrist tied to his belt and the Black Arrow in his hand, and Bilbo walking quietly next to him. They thankfully went around the mountain, avoiding the front, and finding the staircase that led upwards. 

Bilbo didn’t even need to say anything, as the dwarves figured most of it out on their own. It took them the entire day to climb up the mountain, a path that was somehow much longer than Bilbo remembered. The mood was a solemn, quiet one. 

They reached the top of the staircase around evening. 

The light would set soon.

The dwarves reached the wall, desperate to find the key hole. They set down their walking sticks, using every pair of hands they had available to find it. Thorin leant the Black Arrow against the wall, mouth pressed into a thin line. 

The light was fading. 

“Keep looking!” Thorin growled, pressing into the stone as if it might give away any second. 

Bilbo pressed around as well, kneeling on the floor. He knew it was useless until the moon shone down on them, illuminating the door with blue light. 

It happened again, as it did last time.

Balin sighed, turning away. “Come away, lads. It’s too late.” The others had already turned away, cursing in their disappointment, kicking the stone even. 

“What? No!” Bilbo sighed, disheartened to see the others give up so easily. If they would only wait a little longer! “Come back! Where are you going?” He turned to Thorin, who was on his knees, both hands pressed against the stone wall, right where the door had been revealed last time. 

“Thorin?”

“I’m staying.” Thorin said loudly, hands still pressed into the stone. 

The others looked at each other, and Bilbo sighed in relief. 

“Thank you. Let’s keep looking!” Bilbo turned to the others, who were staring, entirely unconvinced at both of them. 

“We’ve already looked everywhere. We missed it.” Bofur sighed, using that tone he did when he wanted to break the sad news to someone without breaking their hearts. 

“No. We didn’t.” Thorin shook his head, and he looked up at the sky. “There is light yet to be found. We read the map, lit by the moon.” He said stubbornly, and was rewarded when a small thrush landed next to him, knocking something against the stone. The clouds moved to the side, revealing moonlight shining down on his hands. 

And with that, the key hole was revealed, right above where Thorin’s hands were pressed against the stone. 

“And so the door is revealed, lit by the moon.” Thorin breathed gently, smiling brightly and stood up. He pressed the key into the keyhole and twisted. With his entire strength, he pushed the door open, until it knocked against the inside of the mountain with a soft thud. 

No one dared to speak. 

  
Thorin entered the mountain, for the first time since they had been chased out by fire and death, and he traced the walls with his hands. Balin walked in next, and Bilbo thought he heard a quiet sob from the older dwarf. Dwalin entered next. 

The dwarves had come home. 

Bilbo teared up as well, wiping away the tears quickly. 

They filtered into the mountain, one dwarf at a time, taking their time to breathe in the ancient air, and to touch the stagnant stone. Ever-present. Their home. 

Bilbo was the last to enter. 

“You remember it, Balin.” Bilbo heard Thorin speak at the front. “Chambers filled with golden light.” 

“Herein lies the seventh kingdom of Durin’s folk.” Gloin read aloud. “May the heart of the mountain unite all dwarves in defense of this home.”

This was it. This was the last moment they would have before Smaug. 

_Well, thief, I smell you._

Bilbo shivered again, and walked slowly to the front. He needed to do this. He stopped walking, eyes widening. 

The Black Arrow. 

He turned around, stumbling over himself, and gripped the Black Arrow tight from where Thorin had forgotten about it. Turning back into the mountain, armed, he walked to the front. 

“Bilbo-” Thorin frowned, shaking his head. 

Balin stopped Bilbo, pointing to the Throne of the King, etched into the stone. 

“The Arkenstone.”

_Fuck_. 

Bilbo sighed, looking up. 

He played along. 

“What’s that?” He frowned, clutching the Black Arrow tightly. 

“That, Master Burglar, is why you are here.” Thorin whispered, standing close to Bilbo. Too close. He reached out and pulled Bilbo away from the others, who were now staring him down. “I must admit, I have mixed feelings about this.” Thorin confessed quietly, leaning their heads together. 

“You want me to find the Arkenstone for you.” 

“Yes. You know what it means to me, from Thranduil’s words.” Thorin sighed, his hands rubbing down Bilbo’s arms. Was he anxious?

“It is why I am here.” Bilbo sighed softly. 

“Be careful. Do not risk anything. If you don’t find the jewel but Smaug wakes, you must return to me.” Thorin said suddenly, gripping Bilbo’s shoulders tightly. “Please. Return to me.”

Bilbo gasped softly but nodded. 

Thorin pressed in tightly, crowding him against the wall, and kissed him deeply. 

Bilbo gripped the Black Arrow tightly, his other hand came up to cup Thorin’s face, and he did his best to kiss back as passionately though he must admit he was quite surprised at this show of affection in front of the others. 

“Come back to me, Ghivashel.” Thorin whispered when he pulled away and let Bilbo go. 

Bilbo walked a couple of steps, then turned around, smiling at the company. 

“I am a lucky Hobbit. I will be fine.”

  
  


#

  
  


This was not fine. 

Bilbo had pulled on the ring almost as soon as he had entered the treasure hall, intent on finding the jewel and not letting Smaug see him. 

_Desperate_. 

He knew they must kill Smaug. 

It would just be easier if he could find the Arkenstone first, and then have to worry about how he was going to kill Smaug. 

If it was up to him, or if it would be someone else. 

With the help of Yavanna, hopefully, his own aim would be true. She had not spoken to him or made an appearance since he met Thranduil.

She has not abandoned him. 

_Are you sure?_

**Yes.**

Bilbo thought grumpily as he waded carefully through the absolute _hills_ of gold coins. Way too many gold coins. He was careful not to make too much noise. With only one hand free, he really didn’t have that much freedom to look for the jewel. 

He was in the middle of debating how he could tie the giant Spear to his back, when he heard.

The puffs of air. 

Coins started moving, sliding around in a cascade of waterfall, and Smaug’s closed eye was revealed. 

Bilbo felt his heart sink into his stomach, the exact same feeling he had felt when he first saw him. He was curled, this time, around another column, only his closed eyelid visible, though his giant body was hidden beneath the coins, surely. 

He wasn’t anywhere near the dragon, this time. No, he was quite far away, on entirely different pile of gold coin, and yet, the enormity of Smaug hadn’t failed to make him feel like a fly. 

Kneeling down, he held the Spear by the end, taking barely audible breaths. 

How was he going to do this?

_You seem so content with using me when you need me. Where is Yavanna now when you need her?_

Crawling on all fours, he ignored the voice, with the Spear tied around his back with his belt, he ensured that there were barely any coins moving. He dug deeper into the hills of coins, almost as if he was swimming in a lake. 

The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he held his breath as he dived into the coins, headed to where he remembered where he had found the Arkenstone. 

It had been after Smaug had caught him, and he had managed to hold him off with pretty words. 

_Will you be able to do the same this time?_

The Ring was started to echo around his mind, the effects of wearing it too long reaching his heart. He hissed a little, and emerged from the pile of gold coins, taking the ring off abruptly. 

He stepped out of the hill, and took the Black Arrow back into his hands, shivering slightly. Sure, he knew he was taking away from Bard’s fate as dragon-slayer, but in the darkness it brought him great comfort to hold the weapon that Smaug was slain with. 

It was with the next step that Smaug shifted again, moving his entire body around in the puddle of coins, causing another avalanche to bury Bilbo beneath waves of coins and jewels. He stayed still for a few moments than crawled out, taking a deep breath. 

Another step. 

This was his last step. 

Smaug suddenly ripped his head out of the coins, roaring furiously, looking around desperately. 

Bilbo slipped on the ring again once more, swallowing nervously. He was sure his soul had just left his body in panic, but he forced himself to stay still.

_Well, thief._

“Well, thief.”

_I smell you._

“I smell you.”

Bilbo let out a shaky breath, unable to hold his breath for long. 

“I can hear you.” Smaug left his pile, shaking off all the gold coins that had gathered in his wings and legs, shaking his tail viciously against the coins. 

“Where are you now?”

Bilbo knelt down, clutching his Black Arrow. If he stayed like this, then Smaug couldn’t find him, not really. 

“Have you come to steal from me?” Smaug crawled along the hills of coins, desperate to find the intruder. 

Bilbo felt his courage leave him very suddenly, all his confidence, drained from him. 

Smaug paused right in front of him, puffing his nostrils, and hissing with his mouth open, revealing his teeth. Sharp, and tall. 

Bilbo let out a whimper of fear, and made a run for it, still holding the Spear tightly. He dove into the hills as Smaug gasped, desperate to follow the signs of the intruder. 

_He sees you_.

Bilbo groaned as the wave sent him crashing into one of the pillars, sending a sharp _crack_ through his right leg, and Bilbo was sure he bit through his tongue trying to hold back the scream of pain.

Just as quickly as the pain had filled his leg, it was suddenly gone, and he realized his body had gone into shock. He tried to claw his way out of the massive wave of coins, one hand still firmly gripping the Black Arrow, and his left hand trying to push the coins away from him. 

**Help** , Bilbo thought miserably as he heard Smaug above him, clamouring for any sign of the intruder. 

There was something sticky around his leg. He must be bleeding. His leg was broken. Bilbo blinked away the tears, and kept going, shoving at each wave of coins that came over him, clawing for breath. 

He thought Yavanna would have come to his aid by now. He expected the green light to fill him, to take away any sense of pain. 

She didn’t. 

He broke through the top of the wave, gasping for breath, shoving the Black Arrow through first and did his best to climb out. He looked down at his leg- which had been broke in two, the bone poking through the skin. 

His vision faded with spots all of a sudden, and he threw up to the side, giving away his position but he could not hold back. The sight of his mangled leg, losing blood rapidly, too rapidly, was too much. 

This was not how it was supposed to go. 

_Where is she now?_

He took off the ring, the echoing of the ring too much for his head. Smaug came into view, laughing. At least, Bilbo thought he was laughing. It was a sound unlike any other. A roar of amusement. 

“A pretty thief. Is this your first time?” Smaug hissed, “I’ve never smelt anything like you before. You have the stink of dwarf all over you. But you’re not a dwarf. You’re bleeding all over my coins.”

Bilbo had to bite his tongue not to curse at the dragon relentlessly. 

Instead,

“I am sorry, O Great Smaug, the unassessably wealthy. I wanted a glimpse at your magnificence to see if all the tales and stories were true.” He waved his hand, pointing to Smaug, and with the other, buried the Spear below the coins. 

“Is that your excuse? I know who you’ve travelled with. I can smell _him_ on you.” Smaug hissed, grinning. “Oakenshield. He is here, is he not?”

Bilbo groaned, trying hard to stay conscious. He took off his coat, trying not to throw up again, and started binding his leg together, the loss of his blood quickly catching up to him. 

“Why do you smell like him so intimately, little one?” Smaug suddenly hissed, nearing and sniffing Bilbo again. 

Bilbo had no answer for him, focusing entirely on his leg. He wasn’t doing it right, he wasn’t doing it right. The shock must have worn off slowly, the ebb and flow of the pain growing stronger and stronger. 

“Do you mean something to him? For you to smell like him so? But then, why would he send you here, to die?” Smaug wondered aloud. 

Bilbo whimpered when Smaug nudged him, trying to grab him with his teeth. 

He pressed himself into the coins, hands finding the Black Arrow again. 

“Oh- here they come. I guess I can ask him myself.” Smaug grinned, trying to grab Bilbo with his teeth. When he didn’t succeed, he raised his head, maybe making eye contact with something, and grabbed Bilbo with his claws. 

“N-no-” Bilbo whimpered, the pain overwhelming him. He tried to hold onto the Black Arrow desperately, his left hand slipping around the spear as he was lifted through the air, and held on high. 

“Were you looking for someone?” Smaug sneered, hissing loudly. 

He heard shouts of his name, and he tried to focus in on the small group of blurry shadows in front of him, on the steps. 

If they said anything else, he could not hear it again. His coat fell from his leg, revealing his broken leg, blood pouring around it down onto the gold coins. 

**Yavanna, please**

  
  


**Bilbo Baggins**. 

A sudden warmth rushed through him, taking away everything and only leaving him with joy. He could have wept from relief. 

**I am here to save you. What did my troublesome Hobbit do this time?**

Yavanna’s voice was a soft whisper, like the summer’s wind, in his mind, gentle, and coaxing, almost teasing him in a way. 

**‘Yavanna, I tried. I tried-I need your help again-’**

**This was not what I imagined when I brought you back in time, Bilbo. I cannot lose you now.**

He could feel a sudden rush of air past his body. Smaug must have dropped him. Shouts from all around confirmed that. Yet, he felt no panic. He did not hit the ground, instead his eyes glowed that bright green light, and, he took to the ground much slower. 

**Your leg is healed. Run to Fili**. 

‘ **Fili? Why Fili?** ’ Bilbo thought as he started running blindly, his eyes still shining bright. He could not see anything, but he trusted Yavanna to lead him into the right direction, the Black Arrow still in his hand. 

**Mahal has great things in store for Fili. Make sure Fili is the one to destroy the beast.**

Bilbo stopped running, stumbling, and falling onto the floor as the light left him, and with it, Yavanna. The world came into focus around him, and he found himself in one of the storage rooms next to the Treasury, kneeling on his hands and knees. The Spear in front of him. 

There were screams and dragon fire behind him. 

Grabbing the spear, he ran back into the action, with a renewed purpose. 

Bring the Spear to Fili. 

Into the thick of it, he saw Smaug flying around in the treasury, using his claws to cause avalanches of coins around. 

“There is something special about you, thief in the shadows!” Smaug hissed once he spotted Bilbo again. 

At the top of the staircase, was Thorin, Fili, and Kili. 

They too had just spotted Bilbo again. 

He ran for his life, outrunning the dragonfire, and sped up the stairs. 

“I saw it! I saw the weakness!” Bilbo huffed as he ran into Thorin’s arms, dropping the spear at their feet. 

“Bilbo-bilbo- bilbo-” Thorin whispered, touching the Hobbit all over. “Your leg- it was- and you--” Thorin shook his head, kissing Bilbo now deeply again. Bilbo let out a soft moan of surprise, clawing at Thorin’s shoulders. 

Bilbo pulled away finally, fighting down the deep blush and turned to Fili, picking up the spear again. 

“I saw the weakness. On his left side, above his arm. A single scale.” He held up the Black Arrow. “We need to hit him there.”

Thorin looked at him with wonder in his eyes, nodding. He turned to Fili, “You have the stronger arm for spear-throwing.”

Kili started to protest but Thorin took his face with his hands, shaking his head. “You’re the stronger archer, that’s true. But we do not have a wind lance in these halls. It will have to be Fili. You can kill the next dragon.”

“ _Don’t_ say that-” Bilbo growled, shoving the spear into Fili, and pushed them all into the next tunnel as dragonfire filled the air around them. Thorin held the three of them close to his chest, using his back to shield them. 

“We kill the dragon. Now.” Fili said solemnly. 

“Let’s kill the fucking dragon.” Thorin grinned, flashing his teeth. Bilbo should not have been turned on right now, but he couldn’t fight it. 

After formulating a quickly thought out plan, the four of them set to work. They split up, spreading out to find the other dwarves and informing them of the plan. Bilbo had found Dori and Balin, and Gloin and Oin, and told them quickly what they needed to be doing. 

Within a short time, the dwarves had assembled, at the top of the staircase leading into the treasury, shouting down at Smaug. All of them except Thorin, Fili, and Dori. 

Smaug reacted as expected, spewing dragon fire at them, then following them into the upper halls when they fled. 

“You will regret this! This is my gold hoard, and I will not let disgusting dwarves take it from me!” Smaug cried out into air, and spread out his wings, coming after them in flight. 

As he spread out his wings, revealing his weakness, out of nowhere, thrown by Thorin and Dori, came Fili. 

Fili with the Black Arrow. 

With an aim unparalleled, Fili threw the Black Arrow deep into the Dragon’s breast, and Fili hit his mark perfectly. 

The Black Arrow sunk deeply into its chest. 

Smaug’s eyes widened in realization, a last cry dying on his tongue as he roared into the air. 

He fell to the gold hoard below, taking out the main staircase that descended into it. 

With it, lay Smaug, the Terrible, Smaug the Impenetrable, Smaug the Golden on top of Erebor’s treasure hoard. 

Dead.

“Long live Fili Dragonslayer!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow what a fucking ride this was. How did it take me 8? 9? months to finish this????
> 
> That's okay. I wanted to do it right. 
> 
> THANK you ALL for always commenting and leaving kudos and coming back to this fic!!!!!!!
> 
> Thank you for believing in me and putting your trust in my hands uwu!
> 
> It is done!!!!!!! 
> 
> The next fic will be published in March. This time I want to write it all before I post rather than write and post one chapter at a time. I'm still working on an original project too, so when i finish that, and try and get it published, I might link it at the end, if any one would be interested! We'll see when I finish it!!!!!!!
> 
> Also- severe canon diversion up ahead (but also sort of not)
> 
> More slash also in the next one, if thats possible. Maybe some explicit nsfw scenes (i might put that in a seperate fic and link it into the series- depends on the response. I wanted to say that now so you can comment what you prefer!)


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